Light the Way

CHAPTER 2. velvet nights

ALINA

The steps that led down from Alina's bedchambers echoed as she made her way down. The Hightower, an 800-foot-high castle, had always seemed so big to Alina growing up. She and her brother Gerold would always run through the hallways, much to her septa's disdain, chasing after each other. The castle had seemed endless back then, and the gardens even bigger.

Her lady mother had always loved taking long walks through their rose gardens. She would tell stories about her home in Goldengrove, a beautiful castle north of Highgarden where the sun always shines and the flowers always bloom. Alina had never been. She knew it was the seat of House Rowan, her mother's house. Alina's uncle Lord Mathis had visited Hightower when she was four. Their third child had just been born and he and his wife Lady Bethany Redwyne had come to show it off. A beautiful baby girl named Ivory, whom Alina had never seen since. Not that anyone could blame her. Between her father's nine siblings and her mother's brother, it was hard to keep track of all of Hightower's family members. Alina had not seen most of them since she was a babe. Her older brother Gerold would often tell her scary stories about their aunt Malora, nicknamed the Mad Maid. He told her she had locked herself up in the highest tower of the castle and eventually gone mad. That she would once, during every blood moon, let herself out to feed on the children in the castle. Her mother had told her it was nothing but lies, intended to scare her. But not once had Alina met her aunt, and she had heard their servants whisper to each other about the Mad Maid.

As Alina reached the end of the staircase, voices stopped her in her tracks. It was her father, she could recognise his gruff voice as he spoke in hushed whispers. "Rhonda, I understand. But do you not think this would be for the best?" He was speaking to her mother.

Alina took another step closer to the door that stood ajar, her hands resting on it as she pressed her ear against the cold stone. "She is my firstborn daughter. Please, do not take her away from me." Her words were pleading, yet her tone was one of acceptance. As if she knew she would not be able to convince him.

"You know how Alina is, she will thrive in the North." The North? Why would her parents be speaking about that? Alina had heard of parents shipping their children off to be raised by another house. Her father had told her about Theon Greyjoy, and how when House Greyjoy had lost their rebellion the Lord was forced to send his son off to be raised as Eddard Stark's warden. Girls in Westeros were only sent away during betrothals. But Alina was only eleven years of age. And she was definitely not betrothed to anyone.

Her mother continued, "I am aware, but the North is cold and the people even colder. Our daughter was born in the spring, she is warm-blooded and should live here with us."

"My lady wife, it is for the best." Her father replied, his mind already made. "Hopefully with this, the Starks will forgive us."

"Baelor, the actions of your father's uncle do not reflect your own." Her mother's stern tone revealed this was a conversation they had many a time. Her great-uncle was Ser Gerold Hightower, whom her brother was named after. He was the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard when the Mad King ruled. Her father did not like mentioning him, saying he was an embarrassment to the family. Ser Gerold had stood idly by during the King's descent into madness. He had done nothing when Lord Rickard Stark and his son Brandon were killed. Alina's father must have felt responsible for what had happened in the Red Keep's throne room. And Alina knew how much her father hated being in debt.

"I know Rhonda. But it lost Lord Eddard his father and brother. This will finally bring our houses together." Was her father speaking about marriage? Why would she be involved with bringing House Stark and Hightower together? The puzzle pieces had slid into place, but it was too late. The door creaked as it slammed open, and her parents turned to look at her. Alina had leaned too much on the door and her weight had pushed it open. She stood there as her father's eyes met hers. Her gaze found the floor as she hung her head in shame.