Post by Horas on Dec 10, 2008 3:08:04 GMT -5
“Let’s go for a ride,” Jennelynn said, pushing her sewing aside. “I am quite bored of this, and the weather is actually nice for a change.”
“You’re only saying that because you embroider as delicately as a camel,” Cyrenna said smugly. Her own knitting was extremely elegant; silver spider-thin threads traced delicate patterns on the soft pink satin cloth she was working on, and Septa Wylla had been most approving.
The princesses were knitting in a wide room in one of Storm’s End’s towers, with some of their new companions from the Stormlands – two Connington girls who were only a few years old than Jennelynn, a young Tarth beauty named Adalee, and a seven-year old chatterbox from House Swann.
“Oh, sit here and rot then,” Jennelynn said dismissively, rising to her feet. “Adalee, you come with me. You would like a long ride, wouldn’t you?” She admired the older girl’s poise and beauty. At fifteen, Adalee was only three years older than Jennelynn, but for the princess, it seemed a long gap.
“Of course,” Adalee of Tarth said with a smile, taking Jennelynn’s hand. “I expect you would like to enjoy a long ride in the country; you wouldn’t have had much opportunity for it in Braavos, I imagine.”
“Exactly,” Jennelynn said with satisfaction, while Cyrenna rolled her eyes and began to talk to one of the Conningtons. “You are so kind and understanding, my dear. Come then, let’s go. We still have a few hours of daylight.”
As they descended from the tower, they were almost knocked over flat by a ten-year old boy with a thick mop of black hair.
“Are you all right, Prince Selwyn?” Adalee asked gently, reaching out to steady the boy. “We were in your…”
“Why can’t you watch where you’re going?” Jennelynn demanded of her brother.
“I could ask the same of you,” Selwyn retorted. “Don’t get so huffy, it’s not as if I almost killed you.”
“I’m not being huffy,” Jennelynn said.
“Yes you are,” he said.
“No I’m not.”
“I don’t care. I was just coming up here to tell you that Mother says you’re not to go out today unless you write your history with Maester Villiers.”
It was alarming how her mother always guessed Jennelynn’s mind – and all the other children’s as well, it seemed sometimes. Jennelynn was annoyed. “I already did.”
“Liar. Shall I go ask Villiers?” Selwyn grinned. “Did she, Adalee?” He glanced at Adalee – Jennelynn knew that he thought her very pretty – but the Tarth girl said nothing.
“Why don’t you go and write history, since you seem to care so much,” Jennelynn said. “Or should I tell Mother about the time you copied your High Valyrian dictation from Pamela Connington’s parchment because you didn’t understand what Villiers was reading out?”
“I didn’t,” Selwyn said, taken aback, but now he was going red and determinedly not looking Adalee’s way. Their mother was very strict about their schooling, and if she thought any of the children were not working sincerely, she grew extremely cross. Their tutor, Maester Villiers, was just as bad – he was a refined, noble-born Dornish scholar from the old Allyrion family, and took learning and proper sophistication very seriously.
“You tell Mother that I already did history, and I won’t tell her about the Valyrian dictation,” Jennelynn said.
“And what should I tell Villiers?” Selwyn said sarcastically. “Should I say ‘Oh, you must be mistaken maester, Jennelynn did study with you this afternoon’?”
Adalee smiled. “You could say that Princess Jennelynn chose to write her history by herself in the morning, and will be happy to show it to him when he gets back.”
“I will?” Jennelynn was alarmed.
“Don’t worry,” Adalee said reassuringly. “I’ll tell you what to write. It’s the Ghiscari Empire – about Zehnak lo Dhol and Serenei and Grazdan, I know all about it. You’ll have it done in five minutes.”
“Then why don’t you just finish it now?” Selwyn said.
“No, he’ll keep us back with talking and asking for explanations and correcting my work,” Jennelynn said. “We’ll never get out, and then we’ll have no time to ride. Thanks, Adalee. I’ll write it when I get home. Now remember, you just keep your mouth shut!”
Selwyn stared after them a trifle sullenly while the girls dashed down the rest of the tower and made for the kitchens.
“Do you think he’ll keep quiet?” Adalee said, laughing, as they ran past the startled kitchen staff and out the garden entrance.
“Oh, he will,” Jennelynn said confidently, leading her friend out of the garden and to the stables. “He tries to act tough, but he would tremble in his boots if Mother found out that he wasn’t studying properly.”
“You obviously don’t worry about that too much,” Adalee said teasingly.
“For now, I’m safe,” Jennelynn grinned. “Mother’s so happy to have Cyrenna and me back home again, she’ll forgive us almost anything. You there,” she called to a groom. “Ready our horses for us.” The groom bowed and hurried away with another. “But after a few months, I expect she’ll be back to normal,” Jennelynn continued, looking at Adalee.
“What was Braavos like?” Adalee asked curiously.
Jennelynn paused. She was not supposed to talk about the time when she and her sisters were hidden in Braavos, but she liked Adalee, and felt she could trust her. “It was all right; it would have been worse if we didn’t have each other. Elinor was upset when we came home and she had to stay behind. Not that the Braavosi treated us badly, or anything. Actually, they treated us very well. We stayed in Ullhor’s massive palace. He has his own island, you know. It was lovely; he gave us a barge and pet swans and parrots, but mine died on the voyage home and Cyrenna’s flew away. We were always worried about what was going on at home, but the servants tried to make us cheerful.”
“But didn’t you have to hide?” Adalee asked.
“From who?” Jennelynn said, raising an eyebrow. “No Westerosi spies can penetrate Ullhor’s manse, and the Sealord was protecting us as well. But they were still discreet; we couldn’t go out into the city, ever. We could only ride our barge at night, and only through the canals around Ullhor’s island. And we had guards about us day and night, and our windows were often shut off so nothing to enter. I didn’t mind all that too much. But sometimes I didn’t like the Braavosi.”
“But you just said…”
“Oh, Ullhor treated us well,” Jennelynn said, waving her hand. “His son’s a nice boy, kind of quiet, but he was friendly. Elinor thought he looked a bit dim though,” she giggled. “But anyway, I was talking about some of the rest of the family. They were so…snooty. It was as if they thought, ‘These Westerosi mongrels are quite beneath us.’ Once or twice, when Ullhor had visitors, I would eavesdrop from the balcony, and they would always talk of the war. We were hungry for news from home, because Lord Ullhor wouldn’t tell us, so Elinor and Cyrenna made me eavesdrop. They were too afraid to do it themselves. So anyway, I would listen from the upper balcony while Ullhor talked with his guests, and they would say such hurtful things about Father.” Jennelynn’s face grew suddenly stormy. “They’re so arrogant, the Braavosi.”
“I am sorry you had to hear such slander,” Adalee said sympathetically, as the horses were brought out. The groom helped Jennelynn up first, and then Adalee. “My lady, isn’t anyone riding with you?” the groom said nervously, meaning guardsmen.
Jennelynn bit her lip. “But I wanted to go in secret, just alone with my friend.”
“You can’t,” Adalee said. “Let’s just take some of the guardsmen on gate duty. They look bored.”
So they did, and the guardsmen looked quite happy to come. The party set out at a fast canter, for Jennelynn was impatient to get as much out of her few hours of freedom as possible. They headed south down to Cape Wrath, the horses keeping up their speed for long distances. Jennelynn often had to rein in to catch her breath and relieve her muscles.
“It’s good to be on horseback again!” she exclaimed, as they crested a high hill, her chestnut gelding sweating but bright-eyed.
Adalee laughed. “Better than a Braavosi barge?”
“Worlds better,” Jennelynn answered, lifting her sweaty face to the heavy breeze. “I’ve grown out of practice, from the long months in Braavosi.” Their guardsmen came up behind them.
“The skies are very clear today, my lady,” one of the guards remarked. “You can see clear down to the tip of Cape Wrath. That’s a rare sight indeed.”
“What’s that tall tower on the coast?” Jennelynn asked, peering. A dark castle looked out over the sea from the tip of Cape Wrath. It was far away from them, but they were perched on a very high hill, on a very clear day, and so the keep became visible.
“Why, I believe that must be Mistwood,” Adalee said, shielding her eyes and squinting. “House Mertyn used to rule it, but they were all killed in the First War of Dragon and Stag.”
“It has such a charming look,” Jennelynn said. “Who rules it now?”
“No family has ruled Mistwood since, but for a time Lord Arryn’s daughter lived there, so the story goes,” a guard said. “She who disappeared.”
“When Dondarrion ruled the Stormlands, he kept a castellan at Mistwood to defend the castle,” another guardsman.
“Oh, I love it,” Jennelynn said. “Let’s go and look at it!”
“We have no time,” Adalee pointed out. “We have about an hour of daylight left, and the ride from here to Mistwood would take half a day. I’ve been there once though; it’s actually in a pretty setting, with this high wild wood beside it and the Sea of Dorne sunlit beneath it. And the rooms have splendid views.”
“I want it,” Jennelynn said at once. “Oh, can you imagine, Ada? We’d have our own feasts and balls for our friends, like grown-ups, and swim in the sea and ride in the wood and decide our own lessons!”
“That does sound like fun,” Adalee said dreamily.
“Let’s turn back now,” Jennelynn said, turning her gelding around. “We’ll get home and write brilliantly about the Ghiscari Empire, so brilliantly that Villiers will swoon and light a candle to the Crone, and Mother will be pleased, so then I can ask her about Mistwood.”
The guards laughed, as did Adalee. “All right, then,” she agreed, and urged her mare forward.
Night fell quite a while before they reached Storm’s End, and the sentry on the south guard tower shouted out and hit the huge bell as they galloped into the yard by the south gate.
“Oh shit,” Jennelynn muttered as she dismounted.
The stern master-at-arms had been waiting for them, and led both girls up to the queen’s chambers at once. They did not dare look at each other. However, while Jennelynn seemed to regain her confidence after a minute, Adalee had gone very pale.
Flames flickered in braziers along the corridors, but they did little to ward off the chill and the flickering light seemed foreboding, somehow. The Kingsguard knight at the queen’s doors, the imposing Ser Betram Selmy, eyed the party before inclining his head once. “I’ll take them in,” he said to the master-at-arms, who bowed and walked away.
Selmy opened the door and led Jennelynn and Adalee into the large parlor room. Queen Selyse was standing by the fire, and so stern and coldly angry did she look that even Jennelynn felt her dread return.
The queen eyed them in silence for a moment, Adalee growing paler every second. Finally, she spoke. “You have disappointed me today, Jennelynn.”
“Mother, I didn’t…I wrote…” Jennelynn began, but the queen cut her off.
“If you lie to me, I shall have you put in a tower cell for a month and fed nothing but bread and water,” her mother said, eyes glinting warningly.
Jennelynn was cowed at that. “I’m sorry,” she said. Privately she was furiously wondering if Selwyn had betrayed her.
“You deliberately disobey, and then ride off into the Stormlands with a measly escort of gate guards? Do you have any idea how long you’ve been gone?”
“Six hours,” Jennelynn mumbled.
“What was that?”
“Six hours!”
There was an outraged pause. “You will take a more respectful tone when you talk to your mother. Did the Braavosi teach you to behave like this?”
That stung Jennelynn, but she just said meekly, “Six hours, Mother.”
“Thank you. Now, you’ve been gone for six hours, and everyone has been frantic with worry. We sent out riders to look for you after dusk fell and you hadn’t returned. Do you have any idea what could have happened to you, you foolish child? There are still madmen out there who are treacherous and desperate and on the run, the men who followed Dondarrion! Dondarrion, who tried to kill you and your sisters! What would have happened if they found you and Adalee, prancing about with a few lackwit guards? They would have killed your men and kidnapped both of you, and held you for ransom. Or they might not have cared, and just raped both of you and killed you. Why do you think I send you out with knightly escort, Jennelynn? You need real protection not just token guards. And you, Lady Adalee!” The queen turned to the tall, willowy Adalee, who dropped her gaze to the floor. “I had expected better of you. You are always so sensible and mature, I had thought you a fit companion for this unruly daughter of mine. What do you have to say for yourself?”
“Please forgive me, Your Grace,” Adalee said. “I am so sorry. I did not mean to…I mean, I just…”
Jennelynn suddenly felt horribly guilty. “It was my idea,” she said. “The whole thing was my idea. I dragged Adalee along.”
“I know,” the queen said grimly. “And Adalee got carried away by the idea of adventure. And I have not even started on the matter of missing your history lesson, Jennelynn. To be honest, it is not as important as your safety, but nevertheless I am very, very displeased with you for lying and missing it. Do not take your schooling lightly, young lady. You are a princess of House Baratheon, and you cannot be an ignorant fool. Our reign is never safe, and it takes intelligence and wisdom to keep your position secure in the world.”
Jennelynn did not see how some stupid history about the old Ghiscari was supposed to keep her safe from rebels and traitors, but she did not speak. She also, miserably, saw her dreams of Mistwood slipping away.
There was a long pause, and then the queen spoke in a calm, firm tone. “You will stay in a room in Maester Villiers’ tower for the rest of the month, and never leave it. You will take your meals in the tower, and have nothing but books for company. Some clothes of yours have already been moved there. None of your paints, no companions. No horse riding. You’re going to sit and study with Villiers from morning till night, and at the end of the month, if Villiers tells me that you have been a good and diligent student, I will let you go. But not until then.”
Jennelynn opened her mouth in horror, but the queen was not done.
“You obviously need some serious discipline in you,” she said. “After your time with Villiers is done, I’m sending you to the crownlands. You will live with your godmother at the motherhouse in Maidhollow.”
“Aunt Jeyne?” Jennelynn said in deep dismay. Aunt Jeyne was nice enough, but she was a batty old sister in a septry, and always talked about the gods. And at a motherhouse, Jennelynn knew, there were no servants. She would have to wash her own clothes! Bake her own bread!
“Yes, Aunt Jeyne,” her mother said firmly. “Aunt Jeyne, the very epitome of goodness and graceful womanhood. If there’s anybody you need, it’s Jeyne.”
“But…”
“But nothing. You may go now.” Fuming silently, Jennelynn curtseyed to her mother and left. Adalee turned to follow, but the queen stopped her.
“You are shaking like a leaf, child,” the queen said, and her voice was much kinder. “Do not worry. You made a mistake, but you’re a good girl. I am not angry with you.”
Adalee was extremely relieved, and curtseyed very low. “Thank you, Your Grace.”
“Tell me,” Queen Selyse said. “Why did you ride so far? It was Jennelynn’s idea, I presume.”
“It…yes, it was, Your Grace. We rode south towards Cape Wrath, until we were within sight of Mistwood.”
“Seven hells,” the queen sighed. “Cape Wrath? Even I did not think she would try to go so far.” She looked worried.
“Yes, Your Grace. Jen…she liked Mistwood. She was going to ask if she could have it.” Adalee wondered if she had made a mistake by saying this, but it was too late.
The queen raised an eyebrow. “Did she, now? I’m not surprised. She wanted a little toy doll house.” Adalee said nothing. Then the queen laughed. “Mistwood is important for defending the Stormlands from the Sea of Dorne, my dear Adalee. It has a full garrison and armed ships. And yet…well, we shall see. I will first see how Jennelynn likes the new life she will be leading.”
Adalee hesitated. She was still afraid, but the queen seemed quite nice now. “Your Grace…”
“Yes?”
“Did…how did you know that Jennelynn had not done her history?”
The queen gazed at her, and Adalee shrank within herself, certain that she’d crossed the line. But then the queen said, “Selwyn kept his word, but it was easy enough to check her room and ask Cyrenna if she had done the work.” She smiled, quite kindly. “You may go now, Adalee.”
Adalee curtseyed deeply, and tried to walk away as fast as possible without looking rude. It was with great relief that she left the room and walked past Ser Betram Selmy.
“You’re only saying that because you embroider as delicately as a camel,” Cyrenna said smugly. Her own knitting was extremely elegant; silver spider-thin threads traced delicate patterns on the soft pink satin cloth she was working on, and Septa Wylla had been most approving.
The princesses were knitting in a wide room in one of Storm’s End’s towers, with some of their new companions from the Stormlands – two Connington girls who were only a few years old than Jennelynn, a young Tarth beauty named Adalee, and a seven-year old chatterbox from House Swann.
“Oh, sit here and rot then,” Jennelynn said dismissively, rising to her feet. “Adalee, you come with me. You would like a long ride, wouldn’t you?” She admired the older girl’s poise and beauty. At fifteen, Adalee was only three years older than Jennelynn, but for the princess, it seemed a long gap.
“Of course,” Adalee of Tarth said with a smile, taking Jennelynn’s hand. “I expect you would like to enjoy a long ride in the country; you wouldn’t have had much opportunity for it in Braavos, I imagine.”
“Exactly,” Jennelynn said with satisfaction, while Cyrenna rolled her eyes and began to talk to one of the Conningtons. “You are so kind and understanding, my dear. Come then, let’s go. We still have a few hours of daylight.”
As they descended from the tower, they were almost knocked over flat by a ten-year old boy with a thick mop of black hair.
“Are you all right, Prince Selwyn?” Adalee asked gently, reaching out to steady the boy. “We were in your…”
“Why can’t you watch where you’re going?” Jennelynn demanded of her brother.
“I could ask the same of you,” Selwyn retorted. “Don’t get so huffy, it’s not as if I almost killed you.”
“I’m not being huffy,” Jennelynn said.
“Yes you are,” he said.
“No I’m not.”
“I don’t care. I was just coming up here to tell you that Mother says you’re not to go out today unless you write your history with Maester Villiers.”
It was alarming how her mother always guessed Jennelynn’s mind – and all the other children’s as well, it seemed sometimes. Jennelynn was annoyed. “I already did.”
“Liar. Shall I go ask Villiers?” Selwyn grinned. “Did she, Adalee?” He glanced at Adalee – Jennelynn knew that he thought her very pretty – but the Tarth girl said nothing.
“Why don’t you go and write history, since you seem to care so much,” Jennelynn said. “Or should I tell Mother about the time you copied your High Valyrian dictation from Pamela Connington’s parchment because you didn’t understand what Villiers was reading out?”
“I didn’t,” Selwyn said, taken aback, but now he was going red and determinedly not looking Adalee’s way. Their mother was very strict about their schooling, and if she thought any of the children were not working sincerely, she grew extremely cross. Their tutor, Maester Villiers, was just as bad – he was a refined, noble-born Dornish scholar from the old Allyrion family, and took learning and proper sophistication very seriously.
“You tell Mother that I already did history, and I won’t tell her about the Valyrian dictation,” Jennelynn said.
“And what should I tell Villiers?” Selwyn said sarcastically. “Should I say ‘Oh, you must be mistaken maester, Jennelynn did study with you this afternoon’?”
Adalee smiled. “You could say that Princess Jennelynn chose to write her history by herself in the morning, and will be happy to show it to him when he gets back.”
“I will?” Jennelynn was alarmed.
“Don’t worry,” Adalee said reassuringly. “I’ll tell you what to write. It’s the Ghiscari Empire – about Zehnak lo Dhol and Serenei and Grazdan, I know all about it. You’ll have it done in five minutes.”
“Then why don’t you just finish it now?” Selwyn said.
“No, he’ll keep us back with talking and asking for explanations and correcting my work,” Jennelynn said. “We’ll never get out, and then we’ll have no time to ride. Thanks, Adalee. I’ll write it when I get home. Now remember, you just keep your mouth shut!”
Selwyn stared after them a trifle sullenly while the girls dashed down the rest of the tower and made for the kitchens.
“Do you think he’ll keep quiet?” Adalee said, laughing, as they ran past the startled kitchen staff and out the garden entrance.
“Oh, he will,” Jennelynn said confidently, leading her friend out of the garden and to the stables. “He tries to act tough, but he would tremble in his boots if Mother found out that he wasn’t studying properly.”
“You obviously don’t worry about that too much,” Adalee said teasingly.
“For now, I’m safe,” Jennelynn grinned. “Mother’s so happy to have Cyrenna and me back home again, she’ll forgive us almost anything. You there,” she called to a groom. “Ready our horses for us.” The groom bowed and hurried away with another. “But after a few months, I expect she’ll be back to normal,” Jennelynn continued, looking at Adalee.
“What was Braavos like?” Adalee asked curiously.
Jennelynn paused. She was not supposed to talk about the time when she and her sisters were hidden in Braavos, but she liked Adalee, and felt she could trust her. “It was all right; it would have been worse if we didn’t have each other. Elinor was upset when we came home and she had to stay behind. Not that the Braavosi treated us badly, or anything. Actually, they treated us very well. We stayed in Ullhor’s massive palace. He has his own island, you know. It was lovely; he gave us a barge and pet swans and parrots, but mine died on the voyage home and Cyrenna’s flew away. We were always worried about what was going on at home, but the servants tried to make us cheerful.”
“But didn’t you have to hide?” Adalee asked.
“From who?” Jennelynn said, raising an eyebrow. “No Westerosi spies can penetrate Ullhor’s manse, and the Sealord was protecting us as well. But they were still discreet; we couldn’t go out into the city, ever. We could only ride our barge at night, and only through the canals around Ullhor’s island. And we had guards about us day and night, and our windows were often shut off so nothing to enter. I didn’t mind all that too much. But sometimes I didn’t like the Braavosi.”
“But you just said…”
“Oh, Ullhor treated us well,” Jennelynn said, waving her hand. “His son’s a nice boy, kind of quiet, but he was friendly. Elinor thought he looked a bit dim though,” she giggled. “But anyway, I was talking about some of the rest of the family. They were so…snooty. It was as if they thought, ‘These Westerosi mongrels are quite beneath us.’ Once or twice, when Ullhor had visitors, I would eavesdrop from the balcony, and they would always talk of the war. We were hungry for news from home, because Lord Ullhor wouldn’t tell us, so Elinor and Cyrenna made me eavesdrop. They were too afraid to do it themselves. So anyway, I would listen from the upper balcony while Ullhor talked with his guests, and they would say such hurtful things about Father.” Jennelynn’s face grew suddenly stormy. “They’re so arrogant, the Braavosi.”
“I am sorry you had to hear such slander,” Adalee said sympathetically, as the horses were brought out. The groom helped Jennelynn up first, and then Adalee. “My lady, isn’t anyone riding with you?” the groom said nervously, meaning guardsmen.
Jennelynn bit her lip. “But I wanted to go in secret, just alone with my friend.”
“You can’t,” Adalee said. “Let’s just take some of the guardsmen on gate duty. They look bored.”
So they did, and the guardsmen looked quite happy to come. The party set out at a fast canter, for Jennelynn was impatient to get as much out of her few hours of freedom as possible. They headed south down to Cape Wrath, the horses keeping up their speed for long distances. Jennelynn often had to rein in to catch her breath and relieve her muscles.
“It’s good to be on horseback again!” she exclaimed, as they crested a high hill, her chestnut gelding sweating but bright-eyed.
Adalee laughed. “Better than a Braavosi barge?”
“Worlds better,” Jennelynn answered, lifting her sweaty face to the heavy breeze. “I’ve grown out of practice, from the long months in Braavosi.” Their guardsmen came up behind them.
“The skies are very clear today, my lady,” one of the guards remarked. “You can see clear down to the tip of Cape Wrath. That’s a rare sight indeed.”
“What’s that tall tower on the coast?” Jennelynn asked, peering. A dark castle looked out over the sea from the tip of Cape Wrath. It was far away from them, but they were perched on a very high hill, on a very clear day, and so the keep became visible.
“Why, I believe that must be Mistwood,” Adalee said, shielding her eyes and squinting. “House Mertyn used to rule it, but they were all killed in the First War of Dragon and Stag.”
“It has such a charming look,” Jennelynn said. “Who rules it now?”
“No family has ruled Mistwood since, but for a time Lord Arryn’s daughter lived there, so the story goes,” a guard said. “She who disappeared.”
“When Dondarrion ruled the Stormlands, he kept a castellan at Mistwood to defend the castle,” another guardsman.
“Oh, I love it,” Jennelynn said. “Let’s go and look at it!”
“We have no time,” Adalee pointed out. “We have about an hour of daylight left, and the ride from here to Mistwood would take half a day. I’ve been there once though; it’s actually in a pretty setting, with this high wild wood beside it and the Sea of Dorne sunlit beneath it. And the rooms have splendid views.”
“I want it,” Jennelynn said at once. “Oh, can you imagine, Ada? We’d have our own feasts and balls for our friends, like grown-ups, and swim in the sea and ride in the wood and decide our own lessons!”
“That does sound like fun,” Adalee said dreamily.
“Let’s turn back now,” Jennelynn said, turning her gelding around. “We’ll get home and write brilliantly about the Ghiscari Empire, so brilliantly that Villiers will swoon and light a candle to the Crone, and Mother will be pleased, so then I can ask her about Mistwood.”
The guards laughed, as did Adalee. “All right, then,” she agreed, and urged her mare forward.
Night fell quite a while before they reached Storm’s End, and the sentry on the south guard tower shouted out and hit the huge bell as they galloped into the yard by the south gate.
“Oh shit,” Jennelynn muttered as she dismounted.
The stern master-at-arms had been waiting for them, and led both girls up to the queen’s chambers at once. They did not dare look at each other. However, while Jennelynn seemed to regain her confidence after a minute, Adalee had gone very pale.
Flames flickered in braziers along the corridors, but they did little to ward off the chill and the flickering light seemed foreboding, somehow. The Kingsguard knight at the queen’s doors, the imposing Ser Betram Selmy, eyed the party before inclining his head once. “I’ll take them in,” he said to the master-at-arms, who bowed and walked away.
Selmy opened the door and led Jennelynn and Adalee into the large parlor room. Queen Selyse was standing by the fire, and so stern and coldly angry did she look that even Jennelynn felt her dread return.
The queen eyed them in silence for a moment, Adalee growing paler every second. Finally, she spoke. “You have disappointed me today, Jennelynn.”
“Mother, I didn’t…I wrote…” Jennelynn began, but the queen cut her off.
“If you lie to me, I shall have you put in a tower cell for a month and fed nothing but bread and water,” her mother said, eyes glinting warningly.
Jennelynn was cowed at that. “I’m sorry,” she said. Privately she was furiously wondering if Selwyn had betrayed her.
“You deliberately disobey, and then ride off into the Stormlands with a measly escort of gate guards? Do you have any idea how long you’ve been gone?”
“Six hours,” Jennelynn mumbled.
“What was that?”
“Six hours!”
There was an outraged pause. “You will take a more respectful tone when you talk to your mother. Did the Braavosi teach you to behave like this?”
That stung Jennelynn, but she just said meekly, “Six hours, Mother.”
“Thank you. Now, you’ve been gone for six hours, and everyone has been frantic with worry. We sent out riders to look for you after dusk fell and you hadn’t returned. Do you have any idea what could have happened to you, you foolish child? There are still madmen out there who are treacherous and desperate and on the run, the men who followed Dondarrion! Dondarrion, who tried to kill you and your sisters! What would have happened if they found you and Adalee, prancing about with a few lackwit guards? They would have killed your men and kidnapped both of you, and held you for ransom. Or they might not have cared, and just raped both of you and killed you. Why do you think I send you out with knightly escort, Jennelynn? You need real protection not just token guards. And you, Lady Adalee!” The queen turned to the tall, willowy Adalee, who dropped her gaze to the floor. “I had expected better of you. You are always so sensible and mature, I had thought you a fit companion for this unruly daughter of mine. What do you have to say for yourself?”
“Please forgive me, Your Grace,” Adalee said. “I am so sorry. I did not mean to…I mean, I just…”
Jennelynn suddenly felt horribly guilty. “It was my idea,” she said. “The whole thing was my idea. I dragged Adalee along.”
“I know,” the queen said grimly. “And Adalee got carried away by the idea of adventure. And I have not even started on the matter of missing your history lesson, Jennelynn. To be honest, it is not as important as your safety, but nevertheless I am very, very displeased with you for lying and missing it. Do not take your schooling lightly, young lady. You are a princess of House Baratheon, and you cannot be an ignorant fool. Our reign is never safe, and it takes intelligence and wisdom to keep your position secure in the world.”
Jennelynn did not see how some stupid history about the old Ghiscari was supposed to keep her safe from rebels and traitors, but she did not speak. She also, miserably, saw her dreams of Mistwood slipping away.
There was a long pause, and then the queen spoke in a calm, firm tone. “You will stay in a room in Maester Villiers’ tower for the rest of the month, and never leave it. You will take your meals in the tower, and have nothing but books for company. Some clothes of yours have already been moved there. None of your paints, no companions. No horse riding. You’re going to sit and study with Villiers from morning till night, and at the end of the month, if Villiers tells me that you have been a good and diligent student, I will let you go. But not until then.”
Jennelynn opened her mouth in horror, but the queen was not done.
“You obviously need some serious discipline in you,” she said. “After your time with Villiers is done, I’m sending you to the crownlands. You will live with your godmother at the motherhouse in Maidhollow.”
“Aunt Jeyne?” Jennelynn said in deep dismay. Aunt Jeyne was nice enough, but she was a batty old sister in a septry, and always talked about the gods. And at a motherhouse, Jennelynn knew, there were no servants. She would have to wash her own clothes! Bake her own bread!
“Yes, Aunt Jeyne,” her mother said firmly. “Aunt Jeyne, the very epitome of goodness and graceful womanhood. If there’s anybody you need, it’s Jeyne.”
“But…”
“But nothing. You may go now.” Fuming silently, Jennelynn curtseyed to her mother and left. Adalee turned to follow, but the queen stopped her.
“You are shaking like a leaf, child,” the queen said, and her voice was much kinder. “Do not worry. You made a mistake, but you’re a good girl. I am not angry with you.”
Adalee was extremely relieved, and curtseyed very low. “Thank you, Your Grace.”
“Tell me,” Queen Selyse said. “Why did you ride so far? It was Jennelynn’s idea, I presume.”
“It…yes, it was, Your Grace. We rode south towards Cape Wrath, until we were within sight of Mistwood.”
“Seven hells,” the queen sighed. “Cape Wrath? Even I did not think she would try to go so far.” She looked worried.
“Yes, Your Grace. Jen…she liked Mistwood. She was going to ask if she could have it.” Adalee wondered if she had made a mistake by saying this, but it was too late.
The queen raised an eyebrow. “Did she, now? I’m not surprised. She wanted a little toy doll house.” Adalee said nothing. Then the queen laughed. “Mistwood is important for defending the Stormlands from the Sea of Dorne, my dear Adalee. It has a full garrison and armed ships. And yet…well, we shall see. I will first see how Jennelynn likes the new life she will be leading.”
Adalee hesitated. She was still afraid, but the queen seemed quite nice now. “Your Grace…”
“Yes?”
“Did…how did you know that Jennelynn had not done her history?”
The queen gazed at her, and Adalee shrank within herself, certain that she’d crossed the line. But then the queen said, “Selwyn kept his word, but it was easy enough to check her room and ask Cyrenna if she had done the work.” She smiled, quite kindly. “You may go now, Adalee.”
Adalee curtseyed deeply, and tried to walk away as fast as possible without looking rude. It was with great relief that she left the room and walked past Ser Betram Selmy.