'I think deep down inside, everyone likes to see themselves sitting on the Iron Throne. Some just refuse to listen to their desire for power. Others give in to it. And others let other people do the hard work for them. But no matter who you are or h...
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The day of the wedding eventually arrived. Two weeks after the arrival of lord Baelish, everything was ready.
The Boltons were dead, Euron Greyjoy was still in Kingslanding, much to Anthea's distaste, Jon Snow had joined Daenerys Targaeryen, who was planning on taking the Iron Throne, and the queen had heard the stories about the undead creatures from behind the Wall. And now she was about to marry lord Baelish.
Anthea stood in front of the large mirror and looked at herself with a blank expression on her face. Her dress was blue and her golden hair fell down her back like a waterfall.
She used to dream about marrying a prince. Instead, she was to marry the lord of the Vale. Not just that, she had to spend her entire life with him. That thought sent shivers down her spine.
Someone knocked on her door and entered without waiting for an answer. She looked at her uncle Jaime entering the room without turning around. She just stared at him trough the mirror.
He came up to her and placed a hand on her back. 'Are you alright?' he asked in a soft voice. Anthea breathed heavily and blinked a few times. 'Yes.' But of course she wasn't alright.
She turned around and buried her face into his chest. She started crying. It wasn't even crying, she felt like all her emotions were pouring out.
Jaime was a bit startled by her sudden outburst. He pulled her close and placed his chin on top of her head. 'You will be alright, Anthea. I will be there for you. You are not moving anywhere else, you are staying here. I will support you, alright? Please just... please stop crying.'
But Anthea couldn't control her emotions any longer. 'Please tell me there won't be any guests to witness this horrible day...' she sobbed.
Jaime looked up at the ceiling and cursed at himself for letting Cersei invite every single person she could think of. 'There won't be that many,' he lied. 'Just a few relatives... and maybe a couple of friends.'
Anthea groaned. 'Don't lie to me. I can sense that you're lying.'
Jaime sighed. 'I am sorry, Anthea... Maybe there will be a few more guests...'
'My life is over,' Anthea cried.
'Sweetheart, no, don't think like that. He's not that bad. Maybe he'll grow on you eventually.' Jaime knew he was only making things worse.
Anthea hit him on the chest. 'Can you please shut up? Of course he won't grow on me! He's awful! Just imagine what our wedding night will be like... And don't you dare use the argument 'he used to own a brothel' or I will kick you out of Kingslanding.'
Jaime totally forgot about the wedding night. 'Forget everything I just said...'
A maiden entered her room. 'Your grace, it is time.'
Jaime let go of her. He brushed a few strands of hair out of her face and dried her tears. 'You can do this. You're a strong woman.'
Anthea took a deep breath and straightened her back.
'Do I look okay?' she asked her uncle.
He nodded. 'You look like a queen.' Jaime gently locked her arm with his and they left the room.
