Alicent Hightower raised a bastard - The Stranger's Child.
Except she didn't.
Naenyra looked nothing like the Targaryen beauty that her father expected. She was, as her mother always wished, a Hightower at heart, and how she looked only proved it...
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Nyra’s uneasiness with the faith grew every time she returned to the Sept, and Septa Muriel would ensure to slight her with every chance. It was one of the few things that made her feel close to her family but knowing that Septa Muriel’s eyes would watch her with that look, Nyra tried to avoid class as much as possible.
She knew it wasn’t any use with Ser Harwin escorting her to the Sept with the girls, and Rosie always taking her hand to drag her into the classroom but on the few days she hung back with her Aunt, it made her feel better.
She hesitated in the courtyard, hands wringing as she slumped herself in one of the chairs. It was a cooler day in the Reach, the wind ruffling at the braided style she had pulled her hair back into. The book she looked at felt impossible to read, the words feeling unfamiliar to her gaze as dark eyes darted over them once more. Valyrian was her preferred language, but Westerosi was just as familiar.
“You look like you’re trying to decipher a foreign language with that book in front of you.” The voice of her aunt cut across the courtyard, Nyra’s attention breaking to look up at the familiar woman.
An awkward smile. “Hah, if only. It’s the Book of the Seven.” She muttered, pushing it further away from her and leaning back. “No matter how many times I seem to read these passages, the words just won’t sink in.”
Ness smiled softly, the hem of her green dress dragging against the cobble of the pathway. “Hmm, I know the feeling well. Every time Hobby gives me something that I must sign for someone or other, I can never seem to grasp what it is I’m signing. I just hope for the best at this point.” She stopped just shy of the other seat, her eyes focused on what Nyra was so intent on reading. “The seven faces to the one God, the seven walls of one Sept. Our devotion is what binds us to those around us, to make us tolerable of not just other religions and ways of life, but to find our own path with what the gods have given us. You are asking the Gods to look at your devotion.”
Nyra nodded smally. “Or trying to. I can’t seem to remember half the words to the prayer.” She dismissed easily. “Goes to show my devotion, I suppose.”
Ness shook her head. “Devotion to the Gods is not always about prayers, do not think your devotion is less than those that can remember their prayers. You carry the Gods with you, that is worth more than praying in times of selfish need.” Selfish need, like her need to reaffirm her devotion to the Gods because she didn’t want to enter their house, and she didn’t feel close to them the way that she did when she was with her mother.
Nyra couldn’t help the quirk of her brows, the glance away from her aunt as she sat back in her seat. “I find that I am not so sure about that.”
“Is this about Septa Muriel?” Ness asked, the dark quickly returning in surprise to the woman who held a knowing look on her face. She supposed Ness should know, the woman seemed all-knowing of what happened within High Tower.
