𝘿𝙀𝙄𝙍𝘿𝙍𝙀 𝙍𝙄𝙑𝙀𝙍𝙎 was haunted by the memories of a life she could never live. A husband she could never have and a heart she could never truly hold. And a warmth that could never linger within her chest. Eyes of pale lilac were all she kn...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ IV. 𝑨 𝑭𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝑭𝒐𝒓 𝑫𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒐𝒏𝒔 96ᴀᴄ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
THERE WAS TO BE A FEAST FOR EVERY DAY OF THE TOURNEY. Another way to celebrate the life of Queen Alysanne (as well as the for the day's victors). The older woman was grinning, occasionally whispering sweetly to her son on her left or her husband on her right. Smiles could not be wiped from the faces of each Targaryen nor their families in attendance. Even the Lady Jocelyn Baratheon found herself bearing a smile as she and her deceased husband's family shared wine and food.
Each of the noble women's ladies in attendance were permitted a table at the far side of the room and a short break for the first night of festivities. So many had piled onto the wooden benches, though little conversation was exchanged. Whispers were scattered, but the only sound Deirdre could hear distinctly was the clattering of cheap cutlery upon cheaper plates and bowls. She was seated beside Alerie Hightower, the older girl pushing the food on her plate about daintily. Her family had yet to arrive, husband, sons and her extended relatives would arrive within the next week, so until then, she would remain seated with the lowborn women and husbandless Ladies.
Deirdre's father and his family had arrived already and were seated just a few short tables away from her. But she would not go to them. She was an intruder upon the family Grover and Cynthea Tully, a stain on their happy marriage an the honour of their House. No matter what any one of them said, Deirdre had caused them nothing but harm. She could not sit, surrounded by her kinsmen, and act as though she were anything but a soiled bastard.
