Thirty-One

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"The man is mad father. I've never seen something so primal in my life." Jale laughed as she recalled the  frightening yet overly dramatic event of the tourney.

Ned sat on the lounge chair as his daughters gathered around. Sansa laid upon her bed bored with a cloth and needle. Arya sat with her legs up by the window staring longingly at the sea. Yet Jale stood before her father more happy than he had ever seen her.

"Lord Baelish, I, Ser Loras and Lord Renly had luncheon together. It was very pleasant. They even made me egg broth soup!" She smiled as she finally sat down beside her father.

Ned had asked Jory, the captain of his guard and most loyal man, to observe Jale during his time away from his children.

Jory had already reported all the events of the tourney. It was not The Mountains wild temperament or Sansa's rose that plagued his mind, but the way Jory said Littlefinger whispered in her ear and touched his daughters waist.

Ned wanted to spend quality time with his daughters, something he had so little of but he could not let his mind rest while looking at Jale. Catelyn put her faith in Littlefinger, yet Ned knew she had made a grave mistake.

"Arya, Sansa would you leave Jale and I alone for a moment. I'll send Jory to retrieve you when we're done. We can go to the gardens and have dinner together." Ned smiled weakly.

Sansa scoffed mumbling under her breath that it was her room they were in. With a quick scold she left with Arya to go visit Princess Myrcella.

Jory Cassel closed the door behind his ladies, looking back to the puzzled young woman and her stressed father.

"You needn't tell me more about the tourney Jale. Captain Cassel has informed me of it."

Jale's eyes quickly cut to the swordsman at the door. Her eyes were like daggers as he bowed his head.

"Captain Cassel was ordered to watch over you and your sisters from the shadows while I was gone. And he did as he was instructed. I needed to know who could be preying upon my daughters as a weakness against me."

Ned cringed as he watched Jales face morph into one that reminded him so much of Lyanna. The way her mouth frowned with hate, the shrinking of her large eyes, and the redness that filled her cheeks. Lyanna made that same face when she was angry with him.

The children of Rickard Stark were as thick as thieves. They often separated into pairs, Lyanna and Ned, Benjen and Brandon together. If anyone knew Lyanna it was Ned and it pained him to see his daughters face so similar to hers.

His children were the same. Jale was with Jon. Bran and little Rickon. Robb and Theon. And unwillingly it was always Sansa and Arya together. He feared of this same pain for Jale, when she were to have children of her own.

"I am not as naive as you think me father-" Jale began but was quickly cut short.

"I never called you naive. Even the smartest of men do not have eyes on the backs of their heads."

Ned stood grabbing Jales shoulders. He plucked one of her mothers auburn hairs from her face.

"I do not like Littlefin— Lord Baelish's actions toward you. As your father, I ask you keep your distance. I will be taking over his responsibilities with your betrothal. He is too old of a man for you and I fear your mothers likeliness has entranced him with the hopes of regaining a lost love."

Jale paused for a moment, before she let out a small giggle.

"You believe Lord Baelish has eyes for me? Well he surely must be a fool, I would never marry a man so old!" Jale laughed heartily as if her father was joking but he never cracked a smile.

Jory looked to Lady Jale as her father walked away.

"He may seem harmless to you Jale, but trust me when I say he is not to be underestimated. Tomorrow I am meeting with Loras Tyrell. I expect you to be in the council chamber."

wolfkissed| petyr baelish (littlefinger)Nơi câu chuyện tồn tại. Hãy khám phá bây giờ