Post by The Smith on Dec 13, 2008 23:40:31 GMT -5
"Her history is excellent, Your Grace. She is knowledgeable of the basics of The Dawn Age and The Long Night and Targaryen history. Her history of the Baratheon reign is much better, but we have not had time enough to study further.” There was a rare look of pride on Maester Villiers’ thin, elegant face, which was normally haughty and cool. “Her High Valyrian has improved since she went to Braavos, and her Braavosi is excellent. Her tutor there must have taught her well.” This was said grudgingly. Jennelynn allowed herself a secret smile from behind the maester. “Her geometry and arithmetic have improved, though not by a large margin, and her astronomy is good. I am satisfied, Your Grace.”
“Thank you, maester,” Queen Selyse said, giving Villiers a smile. He returned the smile thinly. The aristocratic Dornish scholar did not particularly like smiling. “Septa Wylla, what is your report?”
Septa Wylla, who was a very worldly sort of septa, gave the queen a beaming, sweet smile. “Oh Your Grace, the princess is wonderful,” she gushed. “She is well versed in matters of the faith, and knows passages from the holy book by heart. And her needlework has improved so much! Why, look at this!” She displayed a square of green silk to them, which had lovely white flowers embroidered on it. Jennelynn could not believe her eyes. She had worked on those flowers, certainly, but they had been frightful to see. You sly old witch, she thought, gazing at the beaming septa. You repaired all of it, didn’t you? But she didn’t say anything. If Wylla wanted to curry favor while helping out Jennelynn, why stop her?
Her mother looked extremely pleased. “You are a fine teacher, septa,” she said, taking the cloth and examining it. “I have never seen Jennelynn stitch so elegantly!”
“She was very patient, Mother,” Jennelynn added, and Septa Wylla flashed her a quick glance that seemed both grateful and smug. Her mother smiled at her fondly, however, and Jennelynn grinned back.
Finally, the queen turned to Master Fenley, the music and dancing teacher. Like Villiers, he had ignored the septa’s sycophantic gushing. Now he gave his report with moderately warm praise, and the queen was satisfied.
“You have done well, my dear,” she said to Jennelynn. “Now, I think two months with Aunt Jeyne will be easy enough for you.”
Jennelynn was disappointed – she had hoped her mother would forget about that. But she took it with a smile, as if she’d been looking forward to it. “I have missed Aunt Jeyne,” she said, thinking all the while of Mistwood. If I go through with this, mother will give me Mistwood. I know she will. Or I’ll ask Father.
“I can’t wait to go.”
“Good girl,” her mother said. “But first, we shall have a lovely dinner and you may spent time with your brothers, sisters, and friends, before you leave tomorrow.”
///////////////
Lady Blair Royce gazed out from her room, at the tall trees that stood sentinel outside the house – alder, ash, hawthorn, apple, and so many others. She could not see much of the streets, for there were high walls around Brynden’s mansion. As if the trees weren’t enough to block her view.
Down below, her husband’s favorite wolfhound began barking loudly when the grocery cart came up the drive, pulled by a proud, knobbly-kneed little horse that Brynden had gentled. Her kitchen boy was back from the market, and the hound could clearly smell the fresh meat. The guards shooed the dog away good-naturedly.
Nymella woke up, wailing, in her crib. “Oh shh, my baby,” Blair said, leaving the window and going over to her daughter’s golden-engraved swinging crib. “Hush, now, that was just a wolfhound. Go to sleep now.” She sang a lullaby softly, and gently rocked the crib until the baby quieted. Blair gazed at her with love and wonder. She was so small and round, and at two months already had a head full of long brown hair. She was constantly wailing for milk, though, and Blair had initially not allowed a wet nurse. After a while, when Nymella began wailing at every hour of the night, she consented to have a wet nurse help her – but only if she was too tired to nurse the baby herself.
“Does the baby need anything, my lady?” her faithful old attendant, Ellie, had come running up. Blair felt a rush of affection. Ellie had been assigned to look after her since she was a girl of five, and had been with her ever since, taking care of her as if she was still a child.
“No, she’s asleep now,” Blair said. “But perhaps you should run a bath; I’m supposed to be at Lady Hogg’s tonight. She has invited me to her dinners several times now; I’m afraid of insulting her if I give yet another excuse.”
“Perhaps you’ll enjoy it,” Ellie said encouragingly. “None of those other jealous cats will be there, will they?”
“They will,” Blair said glumly. “Be a sweet and bring me some strong wine to drink after my bath, will you?”
It had made her nervous, at first, to move into this new house when Brynden was appointed Master of Laws. They were on posh Peachtree Lane, and many other noble families had houses here, which they lived in when they visited the city. Most of the women had found Blair less than impressive. Her clothes were not stylish enough, her skin too weathered and brown from exposure to the sun, her hands too rough from riding. Some ladies had befriended her and flattered her immediately, and Blair had been bewildered and grateful for their attention. She knew that she was awkward and plain, and not very exciting company. Soon, however, Ellie had brought her news (Ellie always had news; she was a famous one for gossiping with servants from other houses). Blair’s new friends had been laughing about her behind her back with other women who had openly snubbed her at parties. Blair had felt depressed when she realized they had only befriended her because she was Brynden Royce’s wife.
“I will bring the wine, my lady,” Ellie said.
“Oh Ellie, I don’t want to go. They’ll all start talking to each other about everything I do or say.”
“Don’t you listen to them,” Ellie said comfortingly. “They’re just jealous of you.”
“For what?” Blair said. “Marrying a man who doesn’t care for me?”
Ellie tutted. “You’ve made a brilliant marriage,” she said. “Much better than anything that bitch Lady Rosby could ever hope for. Brynden…”
“Oh, he’s a good husband, well enough,” Blair said bitterly. “Always considerate and kind, gives me whatever I want. He’s never gotten angry with me, always been patient. But he always does it in such a dutiful way. He never holds my hand just because he wants to hold it. He never kisses me except when he makes love to me, and he has such a disinterested way of making love. He just rolls off and falls asleep. He doesn’t…”
Ellie looked at her sadly. “Will you never learn, child? My dear, put your foolish dreams of love away. You’re a grown woman now, and it’s time you saw the world clearly. There are no great, passionate romances. Men love pride and power, and women take second place to that. Be grateful that you have a kind and considerate husband. Most women are not so lucky. Most lords are completely uninterested in their wives’ feelings; there are many who beat their wives, or humiliate them. Wives are only fawned over if they are very beautiful, and even then, some do not get that. “
Blair bit her lip. “I’m not very beautiful,” she said. “At all.”
“Blair Hunter, do not ever say that about yourself,” Ellie’s voice was stern. Blair had to smile; she would always be Blair Hunter to Ellie. “Look at your beautiful red hair, your brown doe eyes…”
“I’m too skinny, and I have small breasts,” Blair said flatly. “I have big hands and feet. My skin is brown and freckly and rough…but I can’t help it. I like riding out in the sun and wind.”
“And Lord Brynden likes you for it,” Ellie says. “He enjoys hunting with you, you know it. You always come back happy and glowing, and he has a smile on his face, and you always laugh when you tell me about the hunt afterwards.”
“Yes, that’s true.” Blair smiled to herself. The one thing that Brynden and she had in common, it seemed, was their love of horses and hunting. Her riding and shooting impressed him, she knew. There would always be a warm look of admiration in his eyes when he rode with her, and he complimented her generously when she took down game with her arrows. Brynden seemed more at ease in that setting too, talking and laughing more easily. But when they came home, he would find other things to occupy himself immediately. It was as if he almost avoided her.
“Since we’ve been in King’s Landing, he’s often out in the night…he’s so rarely at home.” Blair looked unhappy.
“Well, there was that grand council, and he is master of laws now, after all.” For some reason, Ellie didn't meet her eye.
“Yes, but doesn’t he ever want to spend time with me, and our daughter? He pays more attention to that stupid squire of his than he does to Nymella! What will it take to make him love me?"
Ellie’s eyes twinkled. “Well, my lady, I don’t know about love, but I certainly know a thing or two about passion. And confidence, which you badly need. Now, listen to your Ellie.”
////////
“Here we are, my lady,” said Layla, Jennelynn’s maid and chaperone for the journey. Jennelynn was already staring at the large septry ahead. It was so large, with great stone walls. Apparently the motherhouse was the most well-endowed septry in Westeros; many rich lords – including the King – contributed to it, because of Lady Jeyne. Jennelynn felt distinctly apprehensive right now.
They had just passed through the village of Maidhollow, and everyone had come out of their shops and houses to watch the procession with wide eyes. Fifty knights escorted Jennelynn, who rode at the head on a white palfrey, with her maid just behind her and a knight beside her. No Kingsguard were here, but the knights made an impressive display even without that. They would guard the motherhouse for the two months that Jennelynn was there.
The gates opened to admit them when they reached the motherhouse. Two young girls in white smocks stared as Jennelynn dismounted from her beautiful palfrey. She glanced at them, but then pretended she hadn’t. Those are the sort of girls I’ll have to live with, she thought with a shudder. Why, they are common farm girls.
A tall sister in brown robes stood waiting when Jennelynn walked inside, with Layla following. “Welcome, Princess Jennelynn,” the sister bowed. “I am Sister Jocasta. We are happy to have you, but your maid cannot take care of you here. There is room for her in Maidhollow.”
Jennelynn flushed. “But I must have my maid,” she said. “You cannot order me around, woman. I’m a royal princess, and I am not going to give up what is due to me just because I am going to stay here for a while.”
Sister Jocasta gazed at Jennelynn coolly. “Your aunt is a royal princess, and has been a diligent member of this motherhouse for years,” she said. “The queen has informed us that you are to be treated as any other novice while you are here, and so you shall.”
Her stupid interfering mother! But Jennelynn would still win this. “My fifty knights say that I am bringing my maid into this motherhouse to attend me whether you like it or not,” she said flatly. “Ser Graham! Escort us into the motherhouse with your men.”
Ser Graham, the lead knight, looked awkward. “Princess…we cannot.”
Jennelynn stared at him. “What?”
“The queen ordered us to listen to the sisters,” Ser Graham said apologetically. “And to not get in the way of your…instruction. I am sorry, my lady.”
Jennelynn’s cheeks were flaming red. She could feel everyone’s eyes on her as she stood in the gate – the knights, her terrified maid, the two novice girls in white, the sister, and even one gawking peasant on the road. She felt tears prick in her eyes.
“Don’t worry, my lady,” Layla said softly, squeezing her hand. The unexpected kindness, and the impropriety of having her hand touched like that by her servant, both comforted Jennelynn and embarrassed her. She blinked her tears back, and turned away abruptly.
“Take me to my aunt,” she said coolly. She added, as an afterthought, “please, Sister Jocasta.”
Sister Jocasta turned wordlessly and led her into the motherhouse. “You will see the Housemother first,” she said over her shoulder. Jennelynn decided not to argue this time.
The Housemother’s office was at the top of the main dorter where the holy sisters slept. It was stark and austere, with very little furnishing. There was a cot where the Septress slept, shelf with books and files, and a small desk and chair. Her two robes hung from hooks beside her cot.
The Housemother was a small old woman with a sharp, ascetic face, but Jennelynn barely noticed her as she walked in. Her eyes instead focused on the tall, handsome woman with the kind, refined face beside her. Aunt Jeyne! Jennelynn was hugely relieved to see a friendly face in this place.
Aunt Jeyne acknowleged Jennelynn’s excited grin with a smile, but put her fingers to her lips to keep Jennelynn from talking.
“Revered Housemother,” Sister Jocasta said. “May I present to you Princess Jennelynn of House Baratheon.” Jennelynn remembered her manners, and this time she curtseyed.
“Thank you, Sister Jocasta,” the Housemother said. The tall sister bowed, and left. “Welcome, Princess Jennelynn. I see you have recognized your godmother and aunt, Sister Jeyne. We are all happy and honored that the queen chose to send you to us for instruction for two months.”
“I am honored to be here and learn the ways of the holy sisters and the Mother Above,” Jennelynn said, remembering what Septa Wylla had instructed her.
The Housemother looked pleased. “You will find our ways very different from how your life is at home. We rise before dawn and pray at the sept, and break our fast an hour after dawn. Our days revolve around feeding the hungry who come to our door, tending to our gardens and dairy, washing clothes, distributing medicine to the sick, reading, praying and teaching our novices. Our novices assist us in all of our duties. You will be a novice, but you will also spend more time with Sister Jeyne than with anyone else. The queen requested that it be so.”
“Yes, Revered Housemother.” Jennelynn felt her heart sink. She had feared this would be the way, although perhaps spending time with Aunt Jeyne would make all the rest easier to bear.
“Well, I will not keep you from your learning any further,” the Housemother smiled. She didn’t seem so bad. “Sister Jeyne, perhaps you could show your novice around the motherhouse?”
“I shall, Housemother,” Aunt Jeyne bowed low to her, and led Jennelynn out. When the door was shut, she hugged Jennelynn. Her robe was rough, but she was warm and smelled like love. Jennelynn hugged her back.
“You’ve grown!” Aunt Jeyne said, looking her over. “And you’re so pretty! Let me see your face.” She tilted Jennelynn’s head up and gazed down at her. “Such lovely eyes, such a little mouth. You’re too pretty for your own good. I can see why your mother sent you to me.” But her voice had a teasing spark.
Jennelynn felt thrilled at the praise. “I am pleased you find me so,” she said, and her aunt laughed, half-indulgent as usual. Jennelynn was Aunt Jeyne’s favorite.
“Still as cocky as ever, are we? Come with me, my girl. Perhaps a few weeks here will set your head on a little more tightly.”
////////
“How do I look?” Blair asked anxiously, staring at her reflection as Ellie did up her hair, piling it delicately into a golden net. Ellie had tightened the waist of Blair’s dress, and insisted on stuffing cotton to enhance her cleavage. The gown was a beautiful red silk with dagged sleeves. Ellie had altered the shoulders of the gown so that they were much wider than before.
“You look lovely,” Ellie assured her. “Wait till I do you face, you’ll see.”
“I don’t want to be painted like a whore,” Blair said indignantly. Ellie had learned about cosmetics since coming to King’s Landing, and she was always trying to use them on Blair.
“It’s nothing like that, silly girl,” Ellie said, smoothing her hair into place and eyeing her with satisfaction. “You will have soft, smooth skin, not red cheeks and a garish mouth.” She began rubbing a cream into Blair’s skin. “This is expensive stuff, I’ll have you know. The lady who sold them to me swore by them.”
“Which lady?” Blair asked, instantly suspicious.
“Well, she was a very high class whore…”
“Ellie!” Blair cried.
“But she demonstrated it to me,” Ellie continued, relentless as ever. “She looked tired and drab without anything on, but she showed me how to use the powders and brushes.” And here Ellie was dipped a small brush in a pale powder. “And when she was done, it looked so natural, but now she was fresh and glowing.”
Blair turned her face away, but Ellie insisted that they test it. “If you don’t like it, I’ll wash it off.” Blair allowed her to continue. When was done, she allowed Blair to look in the mirror.
Blair gaped at her reflection. Her skin was soft and smooth, her freckles very faint indeed. The weathered look of her skin was gone. As she stared, Ellie smugly rubbed beeswax on her lips to soften them.
Lady Hogg’s was just down the street. She had invited only ladies to her house, which Blair now regretted. She felt so pretty tonight, and she would have liked to have Brynden see her like this. But he was at the Red Keep, with the King.
Her litter stopped at the entrance to Lady Hogg’s house, and she heard another litter come up behind her. When she descended, she saw a handsome Reach lady getting down from her litter. The woman was very attractive, and gave Blair a smile. “Lady Royce,” she said, coming up and inclining her head. “It is wonderful to meet you.” Blair greeted her politely, trying not to feel nervous. This lady was so much lovelier than…stop that thinking, she told herself sternly.
She followed the lovely Reach lady into the house, watching her. She noticed the confident swaying hips, the gracious way the woman inclined her head to compliments and greetings, the way she held her head high and shoulders straight. And Blair blindly began to imitate. When Lady Hogg bustled up to greet her, she raised her chin and smiled the way the Reach lady had smiled. She spoke to people pleasantly, remembering Ellie’s advice, and approached people and started conversations instead of hanging back in the shadows.
At dinner, she felt women watching her as she confidently talked to whoever was friendly towards her. She steadfastly ignored some of the more poisonous eyes. Presently one of Blair’s insincere “friends”, Lady Rosby, leaned over and said lightly, “How pretty you look tonight, Lady Blair! Why, I hardly recognize you!” A few women tittered.
Something came over Blair. She didn’t know if it was the dress, or the cosmetics, or the wine, but she smiled and said, “Perhaps it is the dress, my lady. I recognize you easily enough, but that must be because I’ve seen that blue gown at least four times. You must be very fond it.”
Lady Rosby flushed, and Lady Leanna Cressey laughed. “You know, Lady Blair, I was just wondering the same thing.”
What has come over me? Blair wondered, feeling slightly alarmed at her own daring, but she was quick to notice Lady Cressey’s remark. Leanna Cressey was another insincere friend; Ellie had found out that she’d been mocking Blair while visiting Lady Rosby. How malicious can women be? she thought in disgust, as Lady Rosby shot Lady Cressey a glare for her words. Is there nobody that they won’t be mean to? Guiltily she wondered, Have I become one of them?
Still, she saw they had a new respect for her. Some ladies who had previously snubbed her by not talking to her, now broke their aloof silence as the evening wore on. One of them invited her to supper next week. As Blair felt her confidence grow, she found it easier to talk.
“Why don’t we go shopping together next week?” Lady Leanna said, leaning over. She was a very beautiful, flirtatious woman – a real snake, Ellie called her – who was always beautifully dressed. “You haven’t been to Leony yet, have you? Oh, you must come with me! He’s the best dressmaker in town – perhaps the best in the Eight Kingdoms.”
“Oh, yes, Lady Blair,” said another lady. Blair couldn’t believe that she’d chimed in; she was normally very aloof. “You must visit Leony. Tell me when you two plan on going, and I shall come along as well.”
Slightly bemused by all this attention, but trying not to show it, Blair agreed. She would have to make Ellie check on this Leony to make sure these ladies were quite sincere. When the evening ended, she took leave of her hostess graciously, and Lady Hogg insisted on having her back the next day. This time, when she left, many women said good-bye.
At home, she pounced on Ellie and gave her a hug. “Oh Ellie, it worked! I couldn’t believe it!”
“Tell me everything,” Ellie said, as Blair went over to Nymella’s crib. “Oh, don’t worry about her, she’s fast asleep. The wet nurse fed her just a short while ago.”
“Oh,” Blair said softly. She disliked having another woman feed her child, but she saw that it was necessary. At Ellie’s insistence, she sat down and related the evening to her, and Ellie beamed.
“See, I told you. And look how lovely you look.”
“I wish Brynden could see me like this,” Blair said, gazing at her reflection. “Did he send word?”
“Ah,” Ellie’s face fell, as if she’d been dreading this question. From her face, Blair knew the answer. “My lady, his squire Benfry came to tell that your husband will be staying at the Red Keep tonight as the King needs him.”
“Seven hells!” In a brief flare of temper Blair, who had just removed her necklace, flung the pearls at the wall. “He always says that! What could the King possibly want with him?”
Ellie was silent.
“Do you know what I think?” Blair said. “I think he’s lying. I think he has another woman.”
Ellie looked at her. “I’ve wondered before,” she murmured. “But I could find no gossip about it at all; and I thought I would be able to.”
“That doesn’t mean anything; Brynden is cautious after all, and he knows about you,” Blair said, feeling close to tears. Anger and pain threatened to overwhelm her; all of Brynden’s past behavior suddenly made sense with this revelation. “I need to – I need to pay someone to follow him.”
Ellie nodded, and came over and gave her a hug. “Don’t you worry,” she said gently, wiping Blair’s eyes. “Ellie will take care of everything for you.”