Clandestine. 》 Tyrion Lannister 《

Forgiveness

“Tyrion is already stricken by you,” Daenerys said from the doorway of her new chambers. “He may finally be stunned into silence once he sees you like this.”

Daenerys swept her eyes over her face with awe in her eyes. Sansa had already done her hair; it rested on the top of her head in an exquisite bun with curly tendrils hanging loosely here and there. She hated it, but she didn't dare tell Sansa. She hadn't removed the necklace her father had given her, but now she also adorned the jewelry Sansa had requested be made for her. She wore multiple bracelets, and a tight necklace made of jade and silver that she swore was going to strangle her before she even got to see her love. She thought it was all too much, and she barely recognized herself. She assumed the queen must have thought the very same thing.

Missandei, who was never far from her friend and ruler, smiled politely and nodded in agreement.

The two women entered the room, the Queen with her arms stretched out, palms face up. When she finally reached her, she took a hold of her hands. “How are you feeling?”

She tried to muster up a smile, but all she was able to do was grimace. Her stomach was spinning out of control, and she swore she was sweating so much that, once she had it on, her gown, her mother's gown, would soon look like a wet rag clinging to her body.

“I'm not sure I can do this, Your Grace,” she admitted as she let go of her hands and ran her own over her legs. Her palms were clammy and disgusting, and she was embarrassed to be touching someone so important.

Daenerys smiled at her, and it was as calming as a spoonful of Milk of the Poppy. “You're just nervous,” she assured.

She nodded at her queen. “I know. I'm one of the lucky ones. I actually love the man I'm about to marry. The two of you were forced into your marriages.”

She glanced around the room, her eyes settling on Sansa, whose hands were folded in front of her while she stared at the floor. How could she be so self centered and selfish? Seeing her cousin's reaction to her insensitive words knocked the wind out of her. The guilt she felt made her even more queasy.

“Sansa, I'm so sorry!” she breathed as she approached her cousin. “I wasn't thinking!”

Sansa smiled softly at her. “It's all right. Everything you said is true. Just because we were forced into our unions does not mean you cannot be happy in yours. Tyrion is a good man, and I'm glad you found him.”

“It's just like you to say something stupid, Galena,” Arya teased as she entered the room.

She turned to the door, ready to scold her little cousin, but quieted her urge when she realized what she carried in with her. Her heart pounded in her chest as her eyes settled on her wedding gown.

“No witty comeback?” Arya giggled. “Afraid I'll destroy your precious dress?”

She squinted her eyes and pursed her lips. She knew Arya wouldn't harm it, but she wished she wouldn't joke. She scoffed at herself because of how touchy she was. She had already screamed at Jon and Sansa that morning, and all they asked was if she'd wanted some bacon with her breakfast. She needed to get herself under control.

“I'm sorry, Lena,” Arya said softly as she crossed the room and stopped in front of her. She held the dress over her arms and raised it for a better look. “See? I was only kidding. I would never damage something that means so much to you.”

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and slowly released it to regain her composure.

“No, I'm sorry,” she said as she opened her eyes. She scanned the room, resting her sights on each woman in the room with her. She stopped at Sansa, gazing upon her the longest, knowing she was the most sensitive one in the room. “All of this is very overwhelming, and I'm taking it out on anyone within my sights. I'm nervous and excited, but most of all, I'm scared.”