The Dragon's Legacy

Chapter Seventy-Five

Lyle was sitting on his chair, his legs on his table, his head leaned back as his ashen hair was loose and his bottle-green eyes closed.

A year ago he was a welcomed Ward in the Highgarden, but now the Lord of Oldtown... But he yet never knew of the pressure of being one.

But yet he welcomed it.

He was the son of a second son, never meant to rule. He had learned to be a scholar and warrior if need be, but being a lord needed the wit of a snake and the cunning of a fox... Everything his uncle was. Everything that every lord in Westeros was.

"My lord?" A voice interrupted his rest and thoughts.

But Lyle did not open his eyes. "Yes?"

Septa Elenda looked at Lyle, taking in his appearance and calm form "Have I interrupted you?" she asked as she looked at Lyle as his legs were on the table and his eyes were closed.

"What do you think?" Lyle asked as he did not bother to open his bottle-green eyes to meet the Septa eyes. "But feel free to speak your mind, Septa Elenda. You've climbed all these stairs."

"Thank you, Lord Lyle." Septa Elenda spoke calmly as she walked forward and kept looking at Lyle hoping the young Lyle Hightower would open his eyes so at least she would know she is talking to someone who is awake.

"I remember when you were a boy, before your uncle sent you to Highgarden, you dreamed of-" She was cut short.

"Forgive me, but I believe we do not need small chatter. I have half an hour before I start hearing the petitions of my people. So please, speak your mind and true." Lyle said with a slight frown on his closed eyes as he still did not open his eyes.

Septa Elenda frowned for she had hoped to pour honey in the boy's ear before telling him the mind of thousands, but yet the boy had some of his uncle in him... Never a fool.

So she chose to be direct.

"Oldtown is the greatest and most ancient city there ever was or ever will be. It survived the war of the first men, Andals and Rhoynar. Oldtown survived Joffery Dayne when he marched his army from Starfall to Oldtown, it remains strong and seated. Oldtown survived Aegon the Dragon and then Daemion the Kinsalyer... But..." Septa Elenda took her breath and added coldly. "but Oldtown will be disgraced when a dragonspawn stands by your side and call herself the Lady of Oldtown. A disgusting form of unnatural-"

"Speak ill of my betrothed and you will see your word have more of an impact on the harlots of the Oldtown than me, Septa." Lyle said as he finally opened his eyes and gave the septon a cold look. "She too is doing her duty, just as I."

"She is born of the most unholy alliances. Born of brother and sister unnatural relations." Septa Eldena spoke in disbelief. "Those inbred monsters lay with their own kin. Their own brothers and sisters and find pleasure in it. They produce mad children just like the Kinsyaler or his cursed father. Maehor thé Cruel was mad and the dragon blood still drove Daemion the Kinslayer mad."

But Lyle silenced her.

"Princess Rhaella is still my betrothed and soon-to-be wife. She did not ask for this betrothal. A match which was made by the King just as it was made for me after my father and uncle were butchered. You want justice for what happened to Oldtown? Blame Daemion Targaryen. It was he who burnt this town, not her." Lyle ran his long fingers in his shoulder-length ashen hair. Insulting her is insulting me and I will not apologize on your behalf if the word of your insults reaches Princess Rhaella's mother and stepfather. They will bring their dragons, demanding an apology or your head. I shall not humiliate myself and will hand you to them."