━ Chapter One

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I. 𝑻𝒖𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝑩𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒅
95ᴀᴄ
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 𝑻𝒖𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝑩𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒅95ᴀᴄ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

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CHILDREN'S GIGGLES HAUNTED THE HILLS, valleys and rivers across the centremost region in the realm. Deirdre Rivers had not heard such a kind and forgiving sound in what felt like centuries. First confined to Kinglanding, then to be locked away in Riverrun had kept her from the village of her youth.

Not that she particularly minded — irregardless of her growing restlessness and nostalgia — for how could she complain of what was comparatively luxury? Never was Deirdre treated equally to her true-born half brothers, but the Tullys kept her in better condition than they did their maids. Baths were warm and frequent, the clothes were soft (if plain and few) and never did she grow hungry enough to chew away at the wood of her bed frame. Deirdre's life had become entirely mundane. Quiet. Pleasant.

But her Lady Stepmother made no secret of her distaste. Cynthea Tully had been a good and honourable Lady, wife and mother, abiding to the words of her husband's House. She had given him three sons and heirs. And Lord Grover had so kindly repaid her by bringing his redheaded bastard within the sanctity of her and her children's' home. Deirdre's brothers were more or less indifferent to their newly welcomed sister.  They were of a similar age to her, the youngest of them being three years her senior. The two elder of them were already years wed and with a child each.

As the days passed into weeks and weeks into months, Deirdre felt her stepmother's eyes only turn stonier. The girl's presence was a great pain. An honest reminder of what her Lord husband, a well renowned man, had done in the throes of drink and merriment. He could not even blame youth for he had been old enough to know better. Already thrice a father, and a Lord of two or so years.

BY A THREAD ... ᵈᵃᵉᵐᵒⁿ ᵗᵃʳᵍᵃʳʸᵉⁿWhere stories live. Discover now