Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
LYNORA. I should hope you are not offering yourself as my husband. AEGON. And if I was?
Wind rustled the curtains, blowing them through her apartments. The metal of her cup felt cool in her hands. The sun warmed her back, lit up sections of the stone floors.
A young man sat before her, only a handful of years older than herself. He spoke with earnest, his tawny hair bouncing with each nod of his head or jerk of his shoulders.
"If you were to accept my offer, my lady," he said, "my house will be glad to welcome you. You will never need to ask for a thing, and I shall keep you well looked-after..."
Lynora leaned over to whisper, "And... Who have you brought before me again, Tyland?"
"Luthor Rowan," Tyland said after a moment's pause. "Son of Lord Thaddeus Rowan...?"
"Tell me, Luthor," she said, turning to face the young man. "Do you think I am not well looked-after in Casterly Rock?"
He froze. "Well― well, no, my lady... Not at all..."
"Then you understand I do not want for wealth."
"Of course, my lady."
"And that if I want to experience true wealth, I do not need to wed at all, and I could simply return to Casterly Rock."
