XVII

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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 | Blood

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 | Blood

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{ Lyra }


✧✦✧


𝕶nocking, Lyra waited outside of the doors, looking up and down the corridor carefully. It was still too early for anyone to be awake, even the servants had yet to be up, but she did not want to take any chances. It would tarnish the minimal reputation she had left in Kings Landing. 

Joffrey pulled the door open.

The blond man did not say much, just opened the door wider and let her into the room. She had never been to the royal chambers, or Joffrey's apartment before, though she knew that she would be expected to move into it once they married or perhaps another chamber where the Queen Mother stayed currently. There were no guards on the door, but Lyra thought that Joffrey had dismissed them, as if knowing she were coming.

The main area of the room was large, with a desk tucked away in the far corner and a dining table in the middle of the room, covered in sheets of paper and books. There were two doors going off the main room and a large balcony overlooking the port and the walled garden beneath.

"Are you alright, my Lady?" Joffrey murmured, reaching out for Lyra's hand as she watched the sun rise over the horizon. The girl waited for a moment, struggling to think of a way to say what she wished to.

"I cannot sleep. I apologise, I know it is improper." He hummed at her explanation, his eyes running over her as if looking for anything out of place. Lyra changed the subject swiftly, not wanting her thoughts to drift too far for she had been thinking of the stables and the three men all night. "Why are you awake so early?"

"I am working," Joffrey replied, motioning to the mess of papers on his table. Lyra could make out scribbled notes on the side of pages. "There is always more that needs to be done."

"Anything I can help with?" He raised an eyebrow at her, before furrowing them and shaking his head. "I need to do something. I cannot...I cannot just sit around and do nothing."

"Teach me how to braid your hair then," Lyra had not been expecting her betrothed to say that. He was the king and yet he was offering to braid her hair? "You always have your hair in those traditional Northern braids. Can you teach me how to do it?"

"I can," Lyra spoke slowly, as Joffrey sent her a half-smile. "Have you got a hair brush?"

He nodded, pulling a chair out for the girl, before disappearing through one of the doors and reappearing, a brush in hand. Lyra sat down in the chair slowly, waiting for the man to make a reappearance behind her. She mostly braided her hair herself, occasionally letting Sansa do it when the girl was particularly bored, but the ritual was hers and hers alone.

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