THE LADY - Jacaerys Velaryon

xxii. I Promise

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
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I  P R O M I S E
          

           A CLOAKED FIGURE stalked through the grounds of the Red Keep, head hung low as the wind whistled around their black silhouette. Hidden in the shadows they tip-toed through your the tapestry decked walls, rolling their eyes at the sickly sight of green.

           They had been told to find the third door on the fourth floor, that's where they would find her. She would be there, unbeknownst, asleep—hopefully— and startled.

           Then, their eyes set on the door. The third door on the fourth floor. The guard asleep, lazy. How could they entrust these people to protect highborns?

           Slowly, their fingers reached for the knob, and slowly they turned it, apprehensively looking behind their soldier worried that someone will be lurking around them. Then the door opened, the figure rose into the room.

           Looking upon the bed to see the lady they were tasked to find, and it was empty.

           Confused the person glanced around nervously, someone else was there. That wasn't good. That would throw a spanner in their plans, that wasn't what was supposed to happen.

           Where was she? Where was the woman? They were told they would be in their room, probably in bed at this hour. So where was she?

           "If you're trying to sneak up on me, I must say, your doing a terrible job." A voice tutted from behind the cloaked person, making them whip around to see a white gown draped woman emerge from the shadows.

           There she was. Daella Tyrell. The Rose of Westeros. One of the nicknames she had been given, another nicknames she didn't fail to live up too. Her hair was let free, wild and curly, almost like a child's untamed mop. Her face was clean and free from makeup, she looked even more flawless than she did with it. Her body free from the fact jewels and heavy gold wasn't weighing her down or making her look regal.

           She looked...natural. She looked like she had been birthed by the gods themselves, the candlelight that created a yellow shroud over her face made her look ethereal. She didn't look like the Queen of Thorns, she didn't look like the prestigious Lady of Highgarden. She looked like Daella Tyrell. Daughter of Caspian Tyrell and Dorna Lannister. She wasn't anything but beautiful.

           The person under the hood grinned widely at the sight of the woman.

           "I should know better than to sneak up on you, My Lady." They said, stepping closer towards her, but Daella never falter in her head held stance.

           Slowly, the person removed the hood quickly, watching as the lady's eyes softened in kindness.

           "Cassella." Sighed Daella in happiness, moving briskly to embrace the small, Essosi girl in her arms. Her and Cassella may have had some...sensual escapades, but that was only because they were both lonely, other than that, they were close friends. One of the only friends Daella has in Highgarden.

           Daella held her face between her soft palms, watching as the smaller girl blushed at the attention. "How have you been? How is Highgarden? Has something done something to you? Why are you here? Has some—"

           "My Lady, if I may." Cassella replied respectfully, softly taking Daella's hands of her face and in turn holding her hands. "I am very well, Highgarden is thriving because of your advisement, no one has done anything to me. And I am here on some personal efforts." She whispered the last part.