¹CREATURE OF MINE ━━ aemond targaryen

II. we made this holy place into a battlefield

CHAPTER TWO ; We Made This Holy Place Into a Battlefield

     

Dear Uncle Raynald,

I hope my letter finds you in good health. By the time you return home, this should be waiting for you with Maester Wyl. I feel altogether far too hasty in writing home, as you have only just left King's Landing a fortnight ago, but I find that my heart aches to be once again in your company. Do not mistake my meaning ─ the royal family is treating me as one of their own, they have been nothing but kind, and I've been gifted a fresh wardrobe and my new chambers. They feel almost as large as Vassehall itself. I'm honored at their gifts, but I am struggling to accommodate myself to life here. The sky is bright at night from the luminance of the city. The Red Keep never sleeps the way Vassehall does. At any hour of the night I could wander the halls and find any number of people still hard at work; and there is an empty space beside me, constant in its presence, which I am routinely forgetting that you no longer occupy. Your lessons became so commonplace that I quite frankly do not know how to go about life without them. I hope to find my place here soon.

── With love,
Carys.

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With her new position amongst the court, Carys slowly became accustomed to being noticed. She was given new chambers, far larger than her solar back at home in Vassehall, that were located on the third floor across the gap from the holdfast within the castle itself. From her doorway she could watch the royal family come and go if she wished, although she usually did not. Her bed was so large that she could not touch two sides simultaneously, her ceilings were high and vaulted, the walls so wide that her footsteps echoed, and the door was outfitted with a heavy deadbolt that she could lock and unlock from within whenever she wished. These arrangements came with a lady-in-waiting, who was incredibly shy and had yet to tell Carys her name or who had assigned her here. It was no matter ─ Carys would rather not pointlessly converse about the weather every morning either. So they settled with silences, pleases and thank yous from Carys every now and again.

Carys became infatuated with the ivy and clematis that rioted on the wall outside her window. She would pluck lavender petals from the shutters, wilting now with the changing of the seasons, and keep them beside her bed. Eventually she mustered the bravery to follow them down, tracking their paths along each window and finding her way out to a cramped garden on the ground floor, where she could stare up at her window high above. The garden was neglected and a bit overgrown, but nevertheless Carys found it interesting.

Thoughts of Raynald and Vassehall were pushed to the back of her mind as she began digging through the overgrown garden, finding greenish-yellow bulbs that looked like fruit of some kind beside thorns and branches that were dark and mottled with purples. She touched every corner and every wall, tugging on the thick, dead ivy that covered the stone walls like a fishing net. She found a door on the left wall, half-concealed by vines, and pulled on the handle without thinking. It was unlocked.