There's something off about the King's Personal attendant.
Something sinister.
***Used to be Savage***
***Currently Being Edited***
Female!OC x Viserys Targaryen
Female!OC x Alicent Hightower
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The sound of a bell tolling in the distance flowed into the King's chambers, carried by a sweet breeze. Darla leaned against the open doorway to the balcony, enjoying the warmth the sun provided against her back. Her dark eyes trailed over the room's occupants, watching as she Grand Maester and his apprentice attended to the King.
Viserys sat sideways upon a chair, leaning over a small table. The back of his shirt had been pulled up, allowing the apprentice to pick at the small wound on his back.
"Is it healing?" Viserys asked, tearing his eyes away from the low cut neckline of Darla's dress to turn to look at the Maester.
"It has grown slightly, Your Grace." The Grand Maester, Mellos answered.
Ser Otto approached Mellos, both men standing over the Grand Maester's apprentice, watching as he picked off some of the puss oozing from the wound. "Can you say yet what it is?"
"We've sent enquiries to the Citadel," The apprentice responded. "They are searching the texts for similar cases."
"It's a small cut from sitting the throne. It's nothing." King Viserys spoke, his annoyance growing. He held out one of his hands, beckoning Darla closer.
Darla moved foreward, slipping her smaller hand into the King's larger one. Her hip rested against the table as her eyes trailed from the King to where the Grand Maester and the Hand had moved to. Her time in the brothel had been loud, leading to Darla learning how to read lips effectively.
She watched as Ser Otto's lips moved, making out that he was asking if the condition was known yet. Her eyes moved to the old man, squinting as she watched his lips flap about. The King... stresses preparing for... birth... bad humors... affect the body. Satisfied with the information she had gathered, Darla slipped her hand from the King's and turned to pour him a goblet of wine as Mellos moved to return to the King's side.
"We should leech it again." The Grand Maester spoke.
"It's a wound that refuses to heal, Grand Maester." His apprentice proposed. "Might I suggest cauterization?"
"Cauterization would be a wise course of treatment, Your Grace. It will be painful-" Mellos began to explain.
"Fine," Viserys stood up, the annoyance clear on his face. "Fine." He glared at the men surrounding him, though the feeling of cold metal caused him to glance to his left. His gaze softened as he saw Darla holding out the full goblet to him.
"I wish to be alone." The King ordered, his gaze never straying from Darla.
Darla held his stare, a small smirk pulling at the corner of her mouth as the maesters rushed to gather their tools and instruments. She glanced to the side, meeting Ser Otto's harsh look as her smirk grew. The Hand's eyes narrowed as he realized the servant girl meant to stay.
