Heir of Fire

chapter four

Gemma's life at the brothel had become a routine of survival, but as the years passed, she had grown restless. She couldn't help but think about Sam. The man she thought would eventually set her free.

For a while - after that night - she had looked at the door every time someone walked in, hoping somehow it was him. But Sam had not returned.

Men had come, but not to set her free.

She longed for more than the dim rooms and fleeting encounters with men whose names she never learned. That's when she met Kyra, a girl not much older than herself, who often visited the brothel. But Kyra wasn't like the others who came to escape their lives. She worked in the Red Keep, as one of Queen Rhaella's ladies.

Kyra would come by now and then, usually to speak with the other girls or deliver messages from the castle. The two struck up an unlikely friendship—Gemma had always had a way of making people open up to her. It was a survival skill she had honed after years of pretending to be someone else.

"Kyra," Gemma asked one night after a particularly quiet evening, "what's it like? The castle, I mean."

Kyra's eyes had lit up at the question, and soon the two found themselves huddled together, whispering about the inner workings of the Red Keep. Kyra spoke of grand halls and intricate tapestries, of the politics that shaped the lives of every servant and noble alike. But it was when she spoke of Queen Rhaella that Gemma's curiosity deepened.

"She's kind," Kyra said, her voice soft. "But... lonely. She doesn't trust many."

"Why?" Gemma asked, her brow furrowed.

Kyra hesitated, glancing around as if the walls themselves might have ears. "Because of the king. He... He's not like her. And some of her ladies... they've been dismissed for getting too close to him."

Gemma didn't need to ask what she meant. She had seen enough in her life to know what power did to men. But the more Kyra talked about the Red Keep, the more Gemma began to wonder if there was a place for her there.

One night, over the soft glow of candlelight, Kyra made a suggestion.

"Why don't you come with me to the castle?" Kyra's eyes gleamed with excitement. "The Queen's dismissed several of her ladies recently. They say it's because they've been with the king... she'll need new ones soon."

Gemma's heart raced at the thought. Could she really leave this life behind? The brothel had been her prison, but it was also the only place she had known since fleeing Castamere. But then she thought of Sam, of the fleeting dreams she had allowed herself to have. She couldn't stay here forever.

"I don't think I belong in a castle, Kyra. I've lived... I've been..." Gemma stammered.

Kyra shook her head, smiling gently. "You're more than that, Gemma. You've got something about you... the way you carry yourself. The way you speak. I swear, sometimes you sound like a lady yourself."

As Kyra's words echoed in her mind, Gemma found herself gripped by two opposing forces. Working at the castle? Under the same roof as Tywin Lannister, the man who had destroyed everything she once knew, who now stood as Hand of the King? She should be running the other way, staying hidden, staying safe. Every instinct told her that coming anywhere near him was a risk, a dangerous game she couldn't afford to play.

But then, the other force gripped her — the one that burned hotter than fear. The desire to confront him. The hunger for revenge. She wanted him to see her, to know her face, to understand that House Reyne had not been wiped from the world as easily as he'd believed. That a daughter of Castamere still lived and breathed.