Careless Whisper | Willas Tyrell

T H R E E

     Several weeks had passed and it seemed increasingly impossible for Cycelia to not become totally enamored by Margaery Tyrell and her band of merry followers which had accompanied the brunette beauty to King's Landing. The duo had taken a liking to having luncheon in Margaery's elaborately decorated chambers and spent hours laughing over lemon cakes and peppermint tea. Cycelia had to beg Sansa to join them after Joffrey's public discarding of their engagement. The redheaded Stark girl was shy and withdrawn but overtime had really blossomed under Cycelia's wing.

     Cycelia's eyes roamed her companions as they sat together in the gardens wearing dresses of matching blue silk. A pair of servant girls were standing nearby with fans of peacock feathers sending a faint breeze over the back of her sticky neck where sweat was beginning to bead. The sweet scent of Summer was still lingering in the air along with moist heat. Cycelia almost envied the men of the North. She swept her green gaze to Sansa who was picking at the decorative flowers dotting the icing of a decadent lemon cake, which happened to be the favorite of all three women, "You seem to be handling the heat better than I, my dear Sansa. It's surprising with your thick Northern blood."

     "My mother was from the South," she spoke pointedly making Cycelia nod in realization for she knew the sentiment to be true. Lady Catelyn had indeed been born in the Riverlands not incredibly far from King's Landing. Cycelia pondered what it would be like to live in the Riverlands. Boring all the likely, but she loathed residing within the walls of King's Landing so any other location had much more appeal. She was not the wandering type unfortunately so she could envision herself never leaving. Cycelia desired the straight and narrow versus the road most winding. She was far from reckless and leaving her childhood home would be witless indeed.

     "Do you swim?" Margaery asked with twinkling eyes glued now upon the emerald orbs of her older friend. Cycelia shook her head with an arched brow, "Never."

     "You should start. We play games for hours within the pools of Highgarden," Margaery's statement ended on a sigh of longing, "I miss it."

     Sansa smiled sadly at the brunette with a gentle touch to her delicate wrist, "I miss the snow."

     Cycelia was silent for she truly had nothing to offer the conversation besides sympathy which neither girl desired. She had never lived elsewhere to feel longing; except for Storm's End. Their trip to Winterfell had been too brief so she knew no longing for the deep snow drifts of Sansa's home nor the lush grasses and floral pastures of Highgarden where Margaery had grown. She rested her pointed chin atop one fisted palm with a heavy sigh as she grew increasingly bored. Silence festered over the trio of young women with the only sounds being the soft chewing of the redhead on her right and the equally as soft callings of birds on the air. She watched a hawk swoop in flight in the distance wondering if the bird was hunting for it's master in the King's Wood. Another sigh escaped her lips.

     "My, what a sight. Three lovely young ladies looking oh so down in the dumps," the mocking of another Tyrell breathed over them causing all three women's eyes to sweep over to where Loras stood in all his pruned glory. His curled locks gleamed in the afternoon sunlight and Cycelia felt slight jealousy for his hair was even prettier than her own. She simpered none the less at the sight of him playing the ever perfect princess, "Ser, do join us!"

     "I do not know," he scoffed slightly looking to his nail beds in faux disinterest, "It seems awfully solemn here in the gardens this afternoon. What would grandmother say?"

     Margaery sent a saccharine smile towards her brother as she climbed to her feet, "Grandmother should not be bothered with words of our boredom, sweet brother. We were discussing home."