𝙸𝙽𝙰𝙼𝙾𝚁𝙰𝚃𝙰 ° myrcella baratheon

NINETEEN

I sat beside my sister at the Hand's tournament, messing with a leaf I found as I waited for the hoist to begin. A weird feeling was going throughout my body, as if someone was staring at me. Looking over my shoulder, I smirked at who I saw looking my way. Myrcella just blushed, tilting her head down, but her eyes were still on mine.

Glancing around, I spotted no one who appeared to be watching and took the chance to rise from my seat. My sister hardly glance my way as I made my way up a few rows, sitting on the bench just behind where the princess sat.

"You know," I spoke, soft enough that only she would hear me. "It isn't very polite to stare at people, my lady. I expected better manners out of a princess."

The girl giggled lightly before glancing around, making sure no one heard her, and luckily no one did. "That's not very polite of you to say, my lord."

I smirked. "Takes one to know one." Glancing over at the girl, I saw she was still scanning the crowd, making sure no one saw us. "Meet me after the tournament, Myrcella."

"Where?" She said softly after a few moments.

"You know where." I teased before standing up, making my way back down to sit beside my sisters and their septa, squeezing in between the youngest girl and the woman.

"Where were you?" Septa Mordane asked.

I looked over at her, furrowing my brows in fake offense. "What? I can't go and have a piss without being questioned when I return?" The septa decided not to ask anything after that, which I was very thankful for.

Before anything else could be said by anyone, a familiar voice came from next to my sister, Sansa. "Lover's quarrel?"

I looked over at the source of the voice, as did everyone else, only to find Lord Baelish smiling politely down at my sister. The redhead, however, looked confused. "I'm sorry." She said. "Do I..."

I spoke up, causing Sansa to turn and face me. "That is Littlefinger."

"Lachlan." The septa scolded me and I smiled playfully down at my baby sister, who was looking at me with a large smile. "Sansa dear, this is Lord Baelish. He is-"

"An old friend of the family." The man interrupted, still smiling politely at the girls. "I've known your mother a long time."

"Why do they call you Littlefinger?" Arya said suddenly, earning a protest from the septa, as well as Sansa, and a laugh from me.

"No, it's quite all right." The lord brushed it off. "When I was a child, I was very small and I come from a little spit of land called The Fingers, so you see, it's an exceedingly clever nickname."

Before anyone could speak, the loud shouting of King Robert erupted through the arena. "I've been sitting here for days! Start the damn joust before I piss myself!"

I chuckled lightly under my breath as a horn blew, signaling for the competitors to ride forward and present themselves to the King. One of them I was familiar with; Ser Gregor Clegane, also known as the Mountain. The other I had no idea who he was, though I could hear Littlefinger muttering their names to my sister; Ser Hugh of the Vale.

The riders went to their own sides before the joust started, the two men riding full speed at each other with their lances out. I peeked up slightly as their first blows missed, but I could practically feel Sansa tense up.

And that's when it happened. See Hugh went flying from his horse in a split second, a large splinter of the Mountain's lance sticking out of his throat as he coughed up crimson red blood. Shrieks of women and gasps of shock were heard as everyone watched the new knight die before their eyes.

I spared a glance back to Myrcella. But much to my surprise, all I caught was the back of her head as she rushed away. Not wasting a second, I excused myself and rushed off in the same direction, making sure it didn't seem too suspicious. But there was always someone playing attention.