'When you play the Game of Thrones,
You win.
Or you die.
There is no middle ground.'
In which the Princess of the Storm is spun into a whirlwind of chaotic events, all beginning with a single choice to choose Lord Eddard Stark as the new Hang to the...
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THE EARLY MORNING WAS QUITE AND PEACEFUL. Dahlia, who relaxed in her chambers, breaking her fast over the food that was recently delivered to Kings Landing by none other than her own House. Despite the delicious taste, her tongue tasted bitter knowing all this food was to her enemies, people she'd rather starve than eat. Joffrey was particularly one of them.
She ate quietly, and before long she was finished and changing out of her night gown and into her gown for the day. After her handmaidens bathed her in vanilla essence, they dressed her in a gown of royal blue and pristine white, braiding her hair into a delicate bun with a few thick ebony curls hanging around her face.
When she was adjusting her dress, a strong knock hit her door, her handmaidens were quick to open the door. Looking through her large mirror, Dahlia watched as the Hound stepped through the opening, the women cowering away at him. She noticed his helm was on, she shuddered when seeing it.
"Good morning, Clegane," she chimed happily turning and giving him a warm smile, trying to hide her fear of the hideous helm. "What do I owe this pleasure?"
He glared at her, removing his helm. "The King wants to see you," Dahlia felt her heart fall into her stomach. What if he had caught onto her lie?
"Now?"
"Now."
Inhaling sharply, Dahlia smiled and slipped her feet into her flats, she dismissed her handmaidens and moved outside of her chambers, stepping in line with the Hound. "And how are you this morning?" She asked kindly, looking up seeing his gaunt face. He looked down at her with narrowed eyes. "Don't ask stupid questions."
"They aren't stupid, I'm merely being polite," she retorted sharply. No way in the Seven Hells was she allowing him to speak to her like that. "Can you at least tell my why the King demands my presence?"
The Hound grunted, snarling harshly at her. "I don't know every fucking thing he thinks, so will you shut up and move."
Her cheeks flushed with anger, her nostrils flaring and her eyes narrowing into blackened slits. Never in her life had she wanted to yell at someone so badly, her hand twitching to smack him in the back of the head, assuming she could reach.
"You don't have to be so rude," she grumbled, indulging into silence while the Hound growled beside her. Soon enough, they were outside heading towards where Joffrey stood, his crossbow at his side while he practised his aim in the training grounds.
Fear left into her throat at his well struck aim. "Your Grace," she curtsied, swallowing her fright.
Joffrey spun around, a wide-set grin striking his features. "Lady Dahlia, I hope my dog didn't give you any trouble?" He sneered at the Hound.
Dahlia shook her head lying. "None at all."
Joffrey glared harsher at the Hound, impolitely dismissing him before he put his crossbow down as the Hound left. "I must say, that while you stay in Kings Landing, I've assigned the Hound to be your personal guard. He won't let you out of his sight as long as you need."
