The first month we resided in Kings Landing often began with me waking up in my vast feather bed to either one or both of my handmaidens. With bright smiles, Taria would usher me from my bed, allowing Lehna to make it before the two of them assisted in dressing for the day. Dressed, I would softly argue with Taria against weaving my auburn red locks into a simpler version of the Southern hairstyle favored by the Queen and into a style that mixed elements of the North and Riverlands. Prepared, I would then leave my room and join my family for the day's first meal.
Some days Father would ask us about our plan for the day, ask my opinion on a matter he discussed in the Small Council, or we would eat in silence. At the end of the meal, Septa would escort my sisters to an adjoining room for their lessons, leaving me in the company of my handmaidens. If the weather were good, I, accompanied by my handmaidens and guards, would tour the gardens within the enclosed wall of the Red Keeps of the gardens near the Tower of the Hand. Frustrated that I could not find a moment to be alone, I alternated may days with riding, archery, and walking with some trips into the city. Before dusk had fallen, I would return to the Tower of the Hand to dine with my family. There we would sup, and afterward, I would sit with my sisters and Septa to tend to some mending or reading a book. Father would sometimes join us after concluding his day, and we would discuss what occurred in our activities. When I could not endure Sansa's increasingly snobbish attitude, I would retire to my room to write to my remaining siblings at Winterfell or Jon at the Wall.
But when the weather turned sour, I learned more about my handmaidens as we retired to a small sitting room adjacent to my bedchambers. I discovered Taria was originally from Lannisport, whereas Lehna ventured from Cerwyn. Where Lehna was reserved, Taria was talkative yet understood to restrain herself when the moment required silence. Both seemed sincere in their commitment to me, but Lehna seemed excessively protective when men of the court noticed me, whereas Taria would effortlessly turn their attentions elsewhere. Afterward the unfortunate encounters, we would continue with what I had planned for the day.
On a seemingly quiet day, I retired to my room early after supper when I found another vase of Winter Roses residing on the fireplace's mantle. While not unusual, I tried to recall if this was the same vase Lehna arrived with this morning. However, before I could investigate, the door to my room opened suddenly to reveal an excited and interjected Arya. "Ilya, you will never guess what Father just did?" Amused by her excitement, I asked, "did he get you a pony?" She shook her head no as she bounced on her toes. "Did he buy you a stationary set?" I watched her pout begin to drop as I tried to guess what Papa could have acquired, except for the sword master from Braavos he introduced me to days ago. Eventually, she became so frustrated with me that she said, "Ilyanna, he brought me a dancing instructor!"
Curious, I asked, "but you hate dancing. Why would Father...." Interrupting, she uttered, "he's teaching me how to water dance!" I opened my mouth to ask what water dancing was when she spied the flowers on my mantle. "Is that a new vase?" Confused, I uttered, "I do not think so. Why do you think it's new?" Looking back at me, she spoke, "you had a vase near your desk this morning when I came by before my lessons with Septa, but now it's gone, and another vase is there." True, I turned to look at my desk, and the vase had vanished. Surprised, I opened my mouth to speak she suddenly said, "come, you must meet Syrio!" Before I could calmly tell her, I met Senior Syrio. She took my hand and pulled me from the room, eagerly talking about her lessons, successfully distracting me from the vase of roses.
The following morning, I woke to the door handle beginning to shake. Terrified at the prospect that an intruder had gotten past the guards Jory posted, I began to blindly reach for the dagger I tucked beneath my pillows only to see a familiar pinkish-orange gown reflecting at me from the looking glass resting on my vanity. Relieved, I removed my hand from beneath my pillows and watched an elated Taria enter, holding a vase of Winter Roses. Silently, I watched her place the vase on a small table before turning to gather the vase from yesterday when I uttered, "morning Taria." She yelped and spun, dropping the vase. With a crash, I offered a sad smile before saying, "I apologize. I did not mean to frighten you," as I slipped from the bed to guide her away from the splinters of the shattered vase.
"I did not assume that you would be..." I offered Taria a kind smile. "I know I do not usually wake before you arrive. Something just prompted me to rise earlier today." Taria smiled as I turned to pick up the shards of the broken vase and wilting flowers. "Oh, please do not worry yourself. I will..." "I startled you. It is only right that I assist in cleaning the mess I made." Nodding, we began to work together to clean up when I asked, "why do Lehna and you bring a fresh vase of flowers to my room every day?" Standing, I moved to add the flowers I held to the new vase as she tossed the broken vase into the hearth. "Do you not like them?" I shook my head and uttered, "they are stunning, but I know they are not commonly grown this far South. It seems odd because I wake up to find a new vase daily." She slowly stood and gazed at me before uttering, "we were instructed by the page boy that delivered them to you upon your arrival to continue to deliver them." Breathing out, I fought against yelling as I calmly said, "if the page boy asks you to continue to deliver them, please tell him that your lady does not wish to see them." She nodded as the door opened to reveal a frustrated Lehna. "Lehna, are you all right?" She forced a nod before saying, "let us get you dressed, and perhaps Taria can convince you to allow her to style your hair in a Western style." Taria smiled a hopeful smile as I offered a weak smile in return. "Perhaps you can," as Taria led me over to my vanity while Lehna turned her attention to my unmade paid.
Dressed in one of the more extensive green gowns I brought from the North, I silently watched Taria gather and braid two sections of hair above my temples before pulling them behind my head. She pinned the braided loop before tying the tails together to allow them to lay flat against the remainder of my hair. Pleased, I thanked Taria for her excellent work. She flushed as I stood and brushed my hands down the front of my green embroidered gown. "Shall we see if we can take a walk before joining my family for the first meal?" With nods, we left my room, and with a few quick turns to descend the spiral staircase, we came face to face with one of our household guards. "Morning, Lady Ilyanna." Smiling, I uttered, "morning, you look troubled. Is there something I can assist with?" He offered an unsure smile and spoke, "a page approached and uttered that Maester Pycelle received ravens from Winterfell. I told the page that he could not enter the tower with instruction from Cassel, so he left these with me." I glanced at the scrolls he held. "I'm not scheduled for a shift change for some time and..." I patted his arm and uttered, "would you be opposed to me taking them?" He released a sigh of relief. "Thank you, my Lady." Nodding, I took the scrolls from him, and with a soft goodbye, I turned to search for my Father.
I had not gone too far when I heard him moving about in his study. I waved Lehna and Taria away with the request to see if my sisters were awake. Both curtsied and left me to knock on the door before me. Breathing out, I lifted my right hand and knocked softly against the wooden door only to hear, "come!" Lowering my hand, I grasped the door handle and, with a twist, pushed it open to reveal Father sitting at a small-looking desk. "Morning, Father." He glanced up and smiled as I glided across the room to stand before him. "Morning, Ilyanna. What are you doing up so early?" I laid the scrolls on the desktop. "I was going to take a walk in the gardens when a guard noted a page boy in service of Maester Pycelle noted the receipt of these scrolls for you. I offered to bring them to you while Taria and Lehna checked on my sisters."
Sitting in the chair across from him, I heard him utter a soft thank you. He set some aside as I asked, "how goes your meetings with the Small Council? Have you convinced the King that this tourney we must attend is a waste of time and money?" He raised his eyebrows with an amused smirk. "About as well as convincing Sansa that she does not require more dresses and Arya that she cannot wear trousers." I chuckled as he moved the first few scrolls aside, only to stop to look at the third, fourth, and fifth scrolls. Nodding, I patiently watched him pick them up and sort through them with a pensive look. Curious, I found myself asking, "is something wrong?"
Blinking, he glanced at me and uttered, "it is nothing I have not dealt with before." Nodding, I opened my mouth to ask if the pile held anything for me when someone knocked. "Come!" The door opened to reveal Jory. "Morning, my Lord Stark and Lady Ilyanna." I nodded as Father glanced up at him. "Poole advised that your younger daughters were awake and waiting for you to share their morning meal." Father nodded and stood up as I followed suit. Standing, I turned and blinked upon seeing two familiar sigils, the Baratheon Stag amongst the Tyrell Flower and a third sigil I was unfamiliar with. Looking away from the scrolls, I trailed behind Father as we left the room. During our short walk, I could not move past Papa, sadly uttering, "nothing that I had not dealt with before," as my mind quickly discovered that the received scrolls were likely betrothal requests for either Arya or my hand.
With his words echoing my thoughts, I silently sat beside him as my sisters weakly greeted us. Nodding, I turned to plat my meal when Arya asked, "why are you so quiet, Ilya? Aren't you eager for the tourney that will take place on the coming moon?" I glanced at my excitable little sister. "I am sure we will see many tourneys during Father's tenure as the King's Hand." She blinked as I silently stirred some fruit into my porridge, trying to forget the scrolls waiting for Father. "But this will be our first tourney." Frustrated, I opened my mouth to counter her request when Poole entered the room. We silently observed him approach Father before passing him a folded piece of parchment. Father opened the parchment and looked it over before handing it back to Poole. He nodded, with a bow left as Father said, "leave it in my study." Before he could leave the room, Sansa eagerly asked, "does Joffrey wish to see me?" Father glanced at an eager Sansa while Arya asked if the parchment was from her dancing instructor. He glanced at the two of them when I spied the Lannister sigil folded in with the Kingsguard sigil. "What does Ser Jaime want?" Father slowly glanced at me as I lifted my eyebrows. "How did you know..." I looked away from him to gaze at the parchment. "It bares the Kingsguard sigil, but I can see a second seal within the letter bearing the roaring lion of Casterly Rock."
Father leaned back in his seat as I returned my attention to my porridge. "Ilyanna, you do not...." Before Septa could finish berating me for my blunt observations, Father uttered, "he sent it to request the tourney to continue." Curious by request, I spoke, "is that all?" With a sigh, Father shook his head and said, "he also asked if I would allow you to grant him your favor for the tourney." The room grew quiet until I uttered, "it is likely that the marriage requests you received this morning would extend the same request of me." Father gave a slow nod as I nibbled on my meal. "Considering Ser Lannister is a member of the Kingsguard, it would be foolish of me to grant him my favor when there are other more suited men to gift it to." My companions grew quiet as I lifted my spoon and sampled more porridge. "Your right. It would be poor to gift your favor to the Kingslayer." Nodding, I ate a few more bites. "How'd you deduce I received proposals for you?" After I had eaten a few more bits, I lifted my head, saying, "with Sansa betrothed to the Prince, the only likely candidates would be Arya and myself. Arya is still too young to be promised to anyone. However, I..."
Sansa scoffed and muttered, "why would someone write to Father to ask for your hand?" Septa quickly chirped, "Sansa, how can you be so insulting to your sister!" She glared at Septa. Breathing out against the urge to cry, I coldly uttered, "being betrothed to Prince Joffrey has turned you into a spoiled brat instead of the benevolent princess you should be." Ignoring her gasp of surprise and Arya's giggle, I uttered, "please excuse me, but it seems that I am no longer hungry, and I do not wish to entertain company that belittles me." With that, I stood and left the room, ignoring the calls for me to return.
Exiting the Tower of the Hand, I sprinted through the gardens. Escaping the manicured landscape, I sharply turned right and hurried down some stone steps until I found a secluded overlook at Blackwater Bay's mouth. Slowing my pace, I approached the waist-height stonewall. Breathing in the fresh air, I gathered the skirts of my gown and settled on top of the stonewall. Seated, I pulled my legs up onto the wall and hugged my knees before my tears began to fall. Sniffling, I fought against wiping them away as I uttered, "when did she become such a spoiled brat." The wind off the sea began to rustle the light woolen skirt of my gown just as the breeze ruffled the leaves of the Weirwood tree at Winterfell.