The Lion and the Wolf ~ Game of Thrones

13

King's Landing.

Joanna Lannister.

Sliding the thin, yellow chiffon curtain that turned the outside gold, a sigh escaped my lips and I crossed my hands on my lap. "I've fallen dreadfully ill, my love," Jonelle had told me, looking as pert and pretty and healthy as ever, her lips arched with a feline smile. "Too much to watch the tourney, I fear. Could you ever forgive me?"

A smile touched my lips, and I twisted my golden ring around my finger. "Perchance," I'd replied with a sigh. "I adored the garland for the Queen of Love and Beauty. I so wanted you to see it in person..." Jonelle had looked at me with a look of such faux sadness, I'd almost believed it was genuine—my wolf was a brilliant liar when she wanted to be.

Clearing my head of last night's memories, I glanced at an equally distracted Nyra in the seat across from me. Before she noticed, my eyes flickered back to observe the golden world through the curtains. Hundreds of tents were raised beside the river, and the commons had come out in the thousands to watch the games. Once, the splendour of these spectacles had taken my breath away: the dazzling armour, the great chargers, the cheers of the crowd, the banners snapping in the wind... Yet now, it all seemed a touch boring after attending so many tourneys at Casterly Rock.

At the Rock, there had been countless tournaments since I'd been born, and I'd attended them all as my father's sort of stand-in—Lord Tywin Lannister was not a man known for his fondness of tourneys. A waste of coin, but needed as much as I loathe to admit," he'd told me many a time. Uncle Gerion would also join me more often than not, but when he didn't, he was always competing in the events. However, after he'd gone on his fool's errand to find Brightroar and other treasures that may have survived the Doom... I swallowed my grief. Perhaps it was because she had the same vibrant, green-and-gold eyes as my uncle that I'd been sure to bring my cousin along to every tourney.

Frowning and twiddling with my ring, I wondered if Father would send Joy to King's Landing. He'd never wanted to let the baseborn girl live under his roof for so long, but after Uncle Gerion left, the Lord of Casterly Rock had allowed his niece to remain due to his affection for his missing brother. I'd like to see her again. It'd been months. Joy must be so cross with me. "Gods, I haven't even written to her!"

"My lady?

Startled that I'd spoken aloud, my face heated with embarrassment as I looked at Nyra. "It's nothing," she said far too quickly to be nothing based on the devastating Dornish woman's delicately raised brow. "No, really. I've just realised I hadn't written to my cousin at the Rock since leaving." I sighed and twirled a strand of my hair around my finger.

"I wasn't aware that you had cousins other than Lady Genna's sons, my lady." Nyra Sand had an inviting tone to her reserved yet enchanting voice—she had a voice that put people at ease, that made them want to tell her things. That and the fact that she was beautiful made her a very dangerous woman.

"My family is... extensive," I admitted. "Seven help me, I don't know half their names." How horrible did that make me as the unofficial heiress to their House? Nyra smiled uncertainly at me. "Erm, in any case. Joy Hill is my Uncle Grey's daughter. She's something of a sister to me. Such a clever little girl. She can get anything she wants from anyone."

"It seems she shares that talent with my sister," Nyra said.

I said with a weary smile, "She convinced you, too, did she?"

The older woman sighed. "I never even stood a chance..."

We found our seats near the king's own, and I'd actually had to command Nyra to sit with me instead of where all the other servants would be watching from. She was dressed in a yellow low-cut gown of golden velvet trimmed with lace from the east, and it felt almost like a crime to place my love's beautiful sister among the basic garments in the crowd among the commons—perhaps that was horrible of me, but I couldn't help but think of it like that. My gown had been a gift from Tyrion, a beautiful lilac dress with a comfortable bodice that brought out the emerald of my eyes.