the harbinger of war

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"the truth doesn't always make a good story, does it?"

258 AC, Summerhall

23 years ago...

Queen Betha Blackwood was lying on the bed, unconscious as she had been in the past hours, befalling ill all of a sudden in the middle of the night. The king has locked himself in his chambers after whatever Maesters had told him, not allowing anyone, especially not any of his children, but his best friend Ser Duncan.

There were three women standing in front of the bed; Princesses Daella and Rhae, her sisters-by-law, and Princess Shaera, her daughter -another letter was sent to her youngest, Princess Rhaelle but none of them thought she would arrive, too angry with her parents, filled with too much hatred against her siblings, she would prefer to stay in Storm's End with her husband. There was one another woman, not standing close to the bed but grieving more than the blood princesses.

"Gods forbid, if something would have happened to our queen, what would happen to us?", she asked with a shaky voice.

She was only four and ten, barely a woman, crying openly despite the woman's daughter standing with a stone-cold face as if she was waiting for the gentle queen to die -all that abhorrence just because she didn't allow her to marry her brother. She sent a sharp look to the young girl -full of disdain and dislike.

"Watch your tongue.", she ordered. "What matters is the health of the king, not hers. As long as he is alive, we shall be fine."

"My kingly brother is strong.", Rhae spoke with the same carelessness. The young girl wondered if any of them was grieving for the queen at all, worrying for her. "He survived many deaths, he shall do the same."

"It isn't the king who is battling for his life, it is the queen.", the young girl said as tears fell from her face and both Shaera and Rhae shut her down with their looks.

Daella sighed, not having enough patience to deal with them today. "Show fortitude, Jenica.", she ordered but with a soft undertone. Out of everyone in the room, she liked only her. "Maintain your tenacity. You should stand stronger than us all, you have a different duty to do.", Shaera snorted but after Daella's commanding looks, she bowed her head down. "Leave now,", Daella said more gently this time. "he needs you."

"Your grace.", she bowed to the queen and to Daella only, despite the hiss she got from the other two princesses, she left the room in haste.

She was four and ten, born and raised in the Crag, met with a Dornish Prince and caught his interest at Lannisport, befriended a dashingly handsome knight in Darry and finally fell in love with a prince in Oldtown. Jenica Westerling didn't know how to describe her life. It was far from being boring and it was quite not so awkward but it was fulfilling at least.

That morning, perhaps a year ago, the order came from Princess Daella herself. Her nephew was returning from hunting and wanted to pay respect to his aunt and spend time with his cousins, and there was a feast planned for that night. While the girl was obviously liked by her youngest son, Gerold, she did not approve of the match. Her eldest, Gerard, was married to a Fossoway and her only daughter Arwyn with an Oakheart -both were undesired marriages and she was thinking of Bethany Redwyne for him, the sister of the Lady of Highgarden. She disliked Olenna greatly, despite her being a friend to her daughter but her sister was not that bad. And she did not want a Westerling to blur the waters so an introduction to the young prince was in order. He was of age with her and had easy company and it would piss off Shaera and Jaehaerys who wanted their children to share their deviancy and marry each other.

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