Strings of Silk / Aemond Targaryen

The Stranger's Eye

I feared I had been forgotten.

Two days had passed. My food arrived, and I smiled at the serving girl so intently that I must have frightened her. I stayed up increasingly later, attempting to spare myself the horror of waking at sunset in a strange place. I had my lessons with Ryker, but I was so ill at ease I could barely attend to them, or feel any shame at his annoyance.

Why had the Queen been so horrified at the sight of me? I would have thought it was my bastardy, the sign of Aegon's failings, but she had seemed interested in me, excited even. I wondered what her gift was, that had shattered along with her reason. Did I do something wrong, or was I simply wrong for being? The initial dread was turning to resentment. Some word or explanation might make it bearable.

It was hard to focus on my studies, parsing out words from shaking symbols, and Ryker snapped at me more than once, which simply made me stutter harder. He must have thought me a lackwit.

"You're not here, child." He said one afternoon, scowling. "Go to your games, or whatever it is you do."

I could only sigh, pulling a loose strand of hair from my face. "There are no games for me," I said, more to myself than to him.

His stare thawed somewhat. "Ah yes, of course." He tapped. "No girls of your own age?"

I shook my head. He seemed troubled. "Well, you are dismissed."

xxx

The young servant came in to clear away my dinner. I watched her she moved, admiring her neat, birdlike movements as she tidied the table and set out the dishes. I tried to meet her eyes and smile, and she was clearly aware of my presence.

"M'lady." she said, finally. I wanted to correct her, to tell her I was no lady at all, but I feared she would not help me if I did.

"What is your name?" I asked.

She brushed a lank strand from her forehead, and sunk into curtsy. "I am Sage, m'lady."

She's a good girl. I thought. Her mother would have never let her speak to me when I worked the Street of Silk.

I leaned against the wall, hoping I could make myself seem easier and more familiar.

"Do you know who I am, Sage?" Best to test the waters first.

She looked confused. "You are.... the Lady Marai, as they tell me." I could not tell if it was shyness, or she knew more of me than I would have liked.

"Do you go to the sept here?" It was as good a refuge as any.

"Oh yes, m'lady, twice daily! I pray for my parents, and end to war, and his grace." She had a pretty smile. I could not tell if she was in earnest or if she was boasting of her virtue.

"Can you take me there?"

She nodded, and glanced at the closet. "Only....you should wear a cloak."

It was a warm day, and I looked at her curiously as she adjusted it over me. It was only when she pulled the hood over my head that I realized that she wished me to hide my hair.

She knows more than she lets on.

xxx

The sept was cool and grand, and the voices of servants and lords intermingled with equal reverberance before the gods. The morning sun glittered through the prismatic glass, casting an eternity of rainbows over the grey stone walls. The altars burned with candles- a blaze before the Mother, and lesser tributes before the others. The statues were not crude but masterfully carved, ancient and towering. Their eyes were set with priceless jewels and they had the true bearing of gods, inhuman but startling in their presence.