UNUSUAL ↠ GAME OF THRONES

ONE

          Peace. A word that Westeros never seemed to understand. She knew much of those things not to be cautious. But while there was a short moment of tranquility hanging in the air, Jamiela Baratheon has decided to cherish it for as long as it exists.

And, oh poor Narylia Reisse, may not escape the darkness the Gods had written over her Fate ; to be doomed for the hells Gods knows.

Jamiela closed the book, with a slight huff. That goes another off the list, the Baratheon thought, as she stood to take a quill from her bedside, and the rolled parchment, to cross off Dark Rose written over the paper. Sighing, Jamiela slumped back at her bed.

She slowly shook the curtain at the side, and opened the windows. The seashores' smell immediately filled her boudoir's ambiance. Jamiela inhaled the sharp scents of the seas, and smiled shortly, before it was interrupted by the abrupt clicking of the door.

Jamiela turned to see her raven-haired handmaiden Myriane, holding a tray of tea. "M'lady. Here is your morning cup."

Nodding, Jamiela took one last look at the stony shores, before closing the windows. After hearing a satisfying click, the brown-haired lady sat down at her bed, and drained the cup slowly. "Thank you, Myriane." She offered her handmaiden a small smile.

Jamiela turned away, when Myriane's voice rang through the room. "Another book? How could you finish a novel in nights?" chuckled Myriane. Jamiela shrugged her shoulders, nonchalant. "Gods above knows how."

Myriane closes the door behind her, and Jamiela scoots over, as Myriane took a seat beside her. "You know that you are already in a suitable age of marriage." Jamiela stops, and nods solemnly. She dreaded this.

"And you know that Lord Robert knows that, too." A silent nod again. Of course he knew. They had just briefly celebrated her eighteenth birthday a few weeks before.

Knowing her brother, Jamiela might have thought that he would have been busy finding suitable betrothals for her, to strengthen an alliance with any strong House.

"So you have to be prepared, my lady. You have to brace yourself for any big Northern or Southern lord who want want you, or possibly use you to their advantage."

Jamiela shuddered at the thought. She has heard of stories. Of tales about men raping young women to their amusement. She most definitely did not want to be a plaything.

"That's all. Have a blessed morning, my lady." said Myriane dutifully, and bowed, before heading out. After making sure that no one was there, Jamiela sighed and looked out at her window again. Time to play dress up.

Jamiela got up to check her closet for any simple looking dress she got possibly wear. After minutes of scouring through glamorous ball gowns to shimmering dresses, Jamiela pulled out a baby blue sleeved dress, that didn't really shone unlike the others, since it was quite ancient. But for Jamiela, it was perfect.

Rolling up the sleeves just below her elbows, Jamiela grabbed her purple cloak from the nearby dresser, and tightly coiled a baby blue ribbon around her brown hair, keeping it away from her face. "Fine? Of course, Jamiela." A tendency to talk to herself, most found her unusual, no doubt about that. Just another dumb pretty face, a target for bandits.

Well, some facts were true. Admittedly, Jamiela inherited some good looks from her parents, and was kinda proud about it, but not to a certain level of cockiness. Gods, she was different from her brother, Robert. A total womanizer and pighead, she often called him. But Jamiela isn't dumb. Definitely not.