THE LADY - Jacaerys Velaryon

xv. Nothing

CHAPTER FIFTEEN
——————————
N O T H I N G

           CREGAN STARK HAD sat beside Daella at the council meeting currently being held. Daella had invited him to attend as he was an piece in the economic insolvency of the Reach.

            During it, the north man couldn't help but he amused as he watched lords quiver at the wit of a four and ten—soon to be five and ten year old girl.

           "There is still no news from Driftmark, My Lady." Lord Redwyne grumbled, taking a sip from his wine. Daella rolled her eyes at the action. So condescending, she thought.

           "I am aware, Lord Redwyne, as there wouldn't be. As Lord Corlys has fell ill, has he not?" She turned her head to Cregan, eyebrows raised and chin raised. Cregan chuckled at the notion, and nodded his head in agreement.

           "He has, My Lady." Cregan responded smirking as the lord who previously spoke glanced nervously at the two.

           Daella turned back to the front of her council, hands still tight together as her hair fell freely over her shoulders. It was early in the mor, Daella hadn't even broken her fast as of yet as the council deemed it to be of 'the upmost important urgency.'

            "Lord Corlys may have fallen in, but his wife, Princess Rhaenys Targaryen sits the Driftwood throne for him." Lord Hightower said before continuing. "And if I remember correctly she is still capable of mobility."

           Daella had to physically restrain herself from lunging for the lord, breathing deeply through her nose and sighing loudly so the men of the council could hear her clearly. Cregan has to stifle his laughter at the actions of the Tyrell girl, knowing that inside the lords of the council were secretly raging.

           "Princess Rhaenys has never ruled Driftmark before, she needs time to adjust, and she is bound to worry for her ill-fallen husband. I will not push her boundaries when she has so much on her plate." Daella declared, believing she has finished the matter once and for all.

           Until Lord Caswell spoke up. "But, My Lady, we must—"

            The doors to the council room opened loudly, and for a moment, Daella believed it to be her aunt. Knowing she liked to surprise her on visits. But as she stood, hands balanced on the table, her eyes widened and she froze upon the figure groggily approaching the large oak table.

            "Lord Caspian Tyrell of Highgarden, Lord Paramount of the Mander, Defender of the Marches, High Marshal of the Reach and Warden of the South." The Stewart announced, his voice full of shock and Daella's own body was.

            In the council, she controlled the room, she was in charge. But, she was only heir. Her father was the Lord of Highgarden. She was nothing when he was in the room.

           Cregan took notice on how the lady tensed, his eyebrows furrowed in concerned as he nudged her shoulder with his to catch her attention. But she couldn't take her eyes off her father, he waltzed closer and closer to the table, and glass of ale in his hand.

           He was drunk.

           "Daughter!" He cried out, throwing his arms up in the air. Daella felt her face flush slightly in embarrassment, cursing herself when she let it slip, she had tried for years to hide her emotion behind a mask. Anytime her aunt made crass jokes she would no longer stutter in front of others, every time a lord talked back to her she wouldn't hesitate on her question.

           She had buried her emotions for others deep down in the depths of her true self. But she hadn't buried her emotions for her father, because he was never there. Daella thought she would never see him again, she thought he would die in his room and never come out.