[I forgot to mention that this story is the sequel to Ending #2 of To Change a King, so check that out if you haven't!]
I stayed away from the dungeons for a few days in order not to raise suspicion. I had been practicing magic less and less for fear of the radicals. Father and Mother just seemed annoyed that these fanatics thought they could run the Kingdoms.
Mother came into my chambers one evening. "Lehna," she said. "It's time we have a talk. I'm sure you've heard of Joffrey's first prisoner making his arrival here and I want you to know that you are safe here. Your father and I will protect you from anything that means to harm you, but I have to ask: do you want me to train you?"
My mother, Isabel Tyrell, was known for her fighting skills throughout the Seven Kingdoms. She killed a man sent to assassinate my father (although I'm supposed to say Joffrey killed him protecting my mother) and she fought fearlessly in many battles from a young age. I had no desire to learn swordplay.
"Mother, can I show you something?" She nodded and I looked to one of the swords mounted on the wall. "Liikkua," I whispered and the sword launched itself into a drapery on the opposite wall.
My mother froze. "Lehna," she said coldy. "Never do that again." She swiftly left my chambers and I stood dumbfounded, staring at the door, wondering what I had done wrong.
I looked sadly to where the sword stuck in the wall. "Paluu," I commanded and the sword returned to its place. I sank to the floor in disappointment. Now my mother knew, along with Jaime. And my mother wasn't happy about it. All I ever wanted was for her to be proud of me for something that was a talent, not something I had learned.
I decided to go visit the prisoner. He was in the dungeon for witchcraft, so he could help me. I grabbed a dark cloak and exited my chambers.
Lucky for me, everyone in the Keep was superstitious and the halls were empty. Many of the guards were posted outside the dungeons, so getting in would be a challenge. I cleared my throat and pushed my blonde hair further into the cloak.
"Queen Isabel to see the prisoner," I stated with the cool tone my mother usually used with the guards. They grunted and stepped aside while I tried to conceal a triumphant smile. I had a feeling it was the first of many lies to come.
A rustling alerted me to a form chained to a post. "Lehna Baratheon," the form sighed. His voice was soft.
"Jojen Reed," I declared. " I'm told you're here on charges of witchcraft. "
Jojen scoffed. "My talent was praised beyond the Wall. Now I'm thrown in the dungeon to rot because your parents don't care what happens to me, they just want the Septon and the so-called High Sparrow out of the way."
"You speak very openly of your King and Queen." I warned.
"They're not my King and Queen. I didn't choose them. But I suppose I shouldn't talk so harshly of your parents," he rolled his eyes. "Now, why is the Princess sneaking around the dungeons?" He turned so I could see his face. He had blond curls and dark brown eyes. "Princess?" He asked again and snapped me from my reverie.
"I heard you were here on charges of witchcraft. I would like you to teach me."
