Asoiaf: I Have a Wolverine Template

Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Who is he?
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Maria POV

I followed the boy out of the room, my heart pounding with each step. Freedom felt closer with every movement, but it was still unreal, like a distant dream. I glanced at the boy—this strange, calm lad who was buying my freedom. In my hand, I gripped the pouches of gold coins he had given me.

Who was he? He told me he was close to my daughter, but hadn't explained their relationship or even shared his name with me. The mystery of him gnawed at me as I stared at his back, his tall frame moving with a purpose far beyond his years.

"Oh my, that was quite quick, wasn't it?" a familiar voice interrupted my thoughts. Madam Allayne.

Hatred surged through me as her voice cut through the air. Madam Allayne—one of the most vile women I had ever known. She was the reason I had been forced to let go of my daughter, the one who had warned me that Alicent would come to harm if I didn't give all my attention to the men who visited the brothel.

A cruel smirk played on her lips as she turned her gaze to Richard. "So, how was it? Isn't she one of the best?" she said in a fake tone, her cold eyes flicking toward me before turning back to the boy with a false smile.

Richard's expression didn't change. Calm and composed, he motioned for me to hand over the coin pouches. "I'm buying Maria's freedom from this establishment," he said, his voice steady.

Madam Allayne took the pouches from him, her fingers brushing over the leather as if she were already imagining how to spend the coin. She weighed it in her hand, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. After a moment, she gave a curt nod. "Nice doing business with you, kind sir," she said, offering a mocking curtsy.

I could hardly believe it. I was free. Free from Madam Allayne and the horrors of that place. A flood of happiness surged through me, and for a moment, I wanted to run out of the brothel and never look back. But then I looked down at my clothes—it was quite revealing, not something I could wear in the streets of Lannisport without drawing attention.

Richard, as if sensing my hesitation, turned to Madam Allayne. "She'll need better clothes," he said, his tone firm yet calm.

The madam nodded without a word and motioned for one of the girls to fetch something more appropriate. As we waited in that suffocating silence, memories began to flood back—years of broken promises, of hollow nights, of longing for a freedom that had seemed impossible. And now, standing here, waiting for a new dress, it all felt too surreal. Was I really free? Or was this just another cruel twist of fate?

I glanced at the boy again. He had kept his word, and somehow, in this brief time, I trusted him. But I still didn't know why. What did my daughter mean to him?

The girl returned with a simple dress and a black cloak, and I put them on quickly, not wanting to linger any longer in that place. Without another word, we left the brothel and stepped out into the bustling streets of Lannisport.

The city was alive with noise—merchants shouting, horses clattering on cobblestones, the salty breeze from the harbor carrying the smell of fish and seaweed. I took a deep breath, letting the air fill my lungs. *I was free at last.*

Richard led the way through the winding streets, and I followed silently, my mind still spinning. He moved with such purpose and confidence, his eyes constantly seem to always be scanning the surroundings. How could a boy like him—so young—carry himself with such confidence? And where had he gotten the money to buy my freedom?

Curiosity got the better of me. I quickened my pace, walking beside him now. "What is your name, sir?" I asked, trying to sound respectful.

"Richard," he answered simply, without hesitation.