BLEEDING LOVE ⚜️ ROBB STARK

Chapter Twenty • Contemplation

Sorry for the short update, but luckily I have a surprise for you at the end of the chapter...

Lyla didn't want to forgive Robb. Neither could she bring herself to resent him nor hate him.

Was it because she believed that she loved him? Or was it because of that part inside of her that badly wanted this marriage to be different from her parents. She didn't want resentment that would grow to hatred, where they cannot even bring themselves to yell at one another anymore. But what about these feelings she was growing for her husband. The types of feelings she hoped would have grown to make her certain that they would have the love many lords can grow for their lady wives. 

Yet how could she forgive him when he did not trust her. That he believed she would have done something so horrible as have known about Bran's accident (or attempted murder— she was still not sure whether it was planned). While she may have thought things, that it was possible that a member of her family could have tried. But how could he just accuse them of that and keep her here as if she was a hostage. It made her want to scream. She had no one to talk to anymore. She couldn't even write to her family, she was too scared.

Today she laid in her bed alone when she woke up. She just laid there for a while in her dark blue colored nightgown with her black hair spread out on the bed and her body huddled up into a fetal position as her stomach roared and she felt horrible. She clutched onto the covers that no longer covered her body that was burning up as she quietly whined.

It stopped after a while and she was able to calm her body as she rolled onto her back and clutched her stomach. Everything was okay. Okay... Her hands were feeling better. The Maester (who she too did not want to look in the eyes anymore since he too did not trust her and attempted to deceive her) mentioned that her hands were almost fully healed. Good. She was tired of the bandages and ready to not feel stings when touching things. But it wasn't her hands that was hurting her now.

Could it have truly been a Lannister who pushed Bran out of that window and hired an assassin?

She supposed it could have been. But Bran didn't remember a thing when he woke up, and she would not dare ask.

Could her family have truly broken the guest right and kill a young defenseless boy? What for? Why would they?

She didn't want to believe it. No one wanted to believe such horrible thoughts, no matter how true they likely are. She knew others saw her family different from how she did, but she was not so naive that she didn't notice their obvious flaws.

She loved her mother who protected and loved her in a way only a mother could, despite being cruel and vicious. "I will not let them take you away, sweetling. I will sooner have them all killed. You are mine." She wasn't afraid of her mother, she didn't dislike her despite her many flaws, because she was her mother. Their bond was one that none other could understand. Not just mother and daughter, but a mother's firstborn.

Her father was a whoremonger and drunkard, but he cared about her and in his own way showed how much he cared about her more than anyone else and only wanted what was best for her. "I'm so glad I didn't drink and whore myself to death before I could manage to see you off to a good husband. I hope you know." Those words on her wedding night meant the world to her. She laughed then, but it was sweet that he cared enough to want her to have the best he could do.

Her Uncle Jaime was the man with no honor and an oathbreaker as well as a kingslayer. He kept his distance from his nieces and nephews, but never Lyla. It was always the small things she appreciated. "Get sleep, Lyla." He always wished her a goodnight with a kiss on her head or a hug. He taught her how to ride a horse when she was too afraid. He doted and cared for her like a true knight in her eyes.