THE LADY - Jacaerys Velaryon

xvii. A Fruitfull Downfall

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
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A  F R U I T F U L  D O W N F A L L

           "YOUR FATHER WISHES for you to join him for dinner, My Lady." A squire announced as he walked into the bedchamber of Lady Daella. His eyes scouring her body in shock as he noticed she was no longer quivering in her aunt's bed chamber in a nightgown. But instead she was dawned in green gown with gold accents.

           The colours of her house.

           Daella lifted her head from her book—High Valyrian— and smiled warmly at the squire.

           "Thank you, tell him I will be there in a moment...?" She tilted her head slightly and quirked a brow, silently asking for his name.

           "Samuel, My Lady."

           "Thank you, Samual." She replied, smirking victoriously as she watched the boy's cheeks warm quickly. Daella realised she was good at that, making boys—and girls—fluster rather quickly.

           The squire scurried out the room, clearing his throat as he adjusted his close before shutting the door behind him.

           Once she heard the door shut, Daella released a shuddering breath. She hadn't spoken to her father since when Lord Cregan left, which was nearly a week ago.

           Her father was planning something. And she didn't know what.

           Slowly, she made her way to the dining hall. She hated it. For years she spent meals sat at that stupid wooden table alone, or with her aunt. But her aunt wasn't her parents. And this point, her father wasn't truly her father.

           As the doors opened, she had to physically restrain herself from rolling her eyes at the sight of her father. Her father, being the self-absorb prick he always has been, had moved the oak throne of Highgarden to sit at the head of the table instead of the normal ones.

           Like in the councils meetings, his feet were perched upon the table and his head was tilted to look flirtatiously at the female cup-bearer who was shouting uncomfortably in her spot.

           Daella felt a pit of anger bubble in her stomach as her father looked at the girl who was probably two years Daella junior.

           As she approached the opposite end of the table, glaring at her father.

           "Sienna." Daella said, catching the attention of the young girl beside her father. The lady motioned her finger to come here, smiling as she came closer to her. Leaning up to her, Daella caught her wrist. "You're free to leave."

            The girl smiles at her gratefully before leaving the room. From across the table her father scoffed loudly, crossing his arms across his chest like an insolent child.

           "Daughter, how wonderful to see you." Caspian drawled sarcastically, a wicked smile on his face as he leaned back comfortably in his chair.

           Daella did the opposite, leaning forwards, her lips twitching as her nimble finger traced the rim of her already full wine. It was ready for when she got there.

           "Father, how displeasuring to see you." Daella said in the same tone her father had. Her anger rising inside her when she saw his face never falter.

           It felt like talking to a stranger. Her father was no longer her father, just a man who lived in her house and sat her council meetings. To Daella, Caspian Tyrell was just a man of no importance. No meaning. His opinion didn't matter. His views, his words, no one took them into consideration anymore. They used too. Her father used to be looked upon as so wise and cunning. Always more of a politician than a knight.