❝ You and I against the world, my love. Let us bring it to it's knees. ❞
Even the gods were not able to defeat Lyra Stark and Joffrey Baratheon, for once they put their minds to a cause, the gods were forced to step aside and let them past.
QUEENS...
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{ Lyra }
✧✦✧
𝕿he windows from the Stark atrium were perfect for spying, Lyra had worked out.
They overlooked the main courtyard in such a way that you could view anyone in the courtyard but no one could see you, as you were hidden behind a blur of billowing silk. When there was little to do of a day, and it was far too warm to dare venture outside, Lyra found that she enjoyed sitting in the shade of the window, watching the courtiers and servants scurry around beneath her.
The silence was a welcome reprieve from her normal day-to-day activities. Despite having completed her education a year or so earlier, she was now expected to restart it to an extent. Lyra had books to study on languages, geography, political studies and the like. She was having new manners lessons; ones that taught her how to greet people as her station would dictate, how to host dinners and guests and what her royal duties were to demand. Then, the most trying of all, were the moral and ethical dilemmas that they had her pondering. Each one provided no clear answer, yet she was told that some of these scenarios were ones that she might face.
It was quite overwhelming and yet that was only the morning.
In the afternoon, she was taught dancing and then expected to walk the castle ground to greet other courtiers and to learn the lay of the Red Keep. On the rare occasion, she was allowed to go hawking with Sansa and their Septa, or needlepoint, but that was spars.
By the time she reached the evening, Lyra was spent. She would dine with her family, or occasionally there would be a more grand feast, and then expected to retire at an appropriate time after holding a brief conversation with the prince over a suitable topic that had been suggested to her. Apparently, it had been noted that the pair had spoken with no chaperone present.
Now, the only time that she had for herself was early mornings when the castle was still not yet fully awake.
Lyra was sitting a little away from one of the windows, gazing into the main courtyard and the hunting party that was about to set out. It was easy to make out King Robert, for his crown glittered and glinted at every move, bold against his dark hair. There were a few others around, people cheering and chattering. They did not even bother to be quiet, and she assumed that they were still drunk from the night before.
King Robert was so different from all of the stories that her father had regaled her with when she was young. It was hard to know what to make of him.
Looking away from the king, Lyra leant closer to the window and peered down. She had no trouble finding the remainder of the royal family, their golden hair bright against the stone. All of them, compared to the king, seemed to stand stock still and silent, surrounded by courtiers. When the king and his entourage galloped out of the gate, the children did not wave or call for their father, merely watching until it was acceptable for them to leave.
