The Dance of The Basilisk (HP x HOTD and F&B)

The Quickened Schedule

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Bloodstone

Lady Prudence sat in her husband's solar, his desk littered with parchment and opened ravens that she has been accustomed to sifting through during her stead as ruling Lady when Haedryn is gone. She wore a yellow short sleeve dress that housed Darklyn embroidery with the shoulder pieces connected with amber gems.

Prue looked down at her protruding and wide round stomach, her hand moving from the opened letter she was reading to lazily rub her middle's mound.

"Just two more months, sweet girl," she spoke to herself and her womb quietly, the only sound responding being the wind and waves outside.

The Darklyn turned Targaryen wife then shook her head to clear her mind once more and then picked up the letter she was once again reading through.

The betrothal between her or Maeve's sons to a Braavosi.

At first when she opened the letter a day ago, she did not know what to think, especially since it seemed weathered and it must have been lost for a while...odd. The timing was not the issue for her personally, it was the audacity that Braavos believed they deserved any of her children, but she knew how the world worked.

Although Prudence never could see eye to eye with Maeve and they honestly did not enjoy one another's company—she would not let her children be used for political games either.

Her and Maeve's dislike with each other was heavily noted by those who were present in the same room with the two, while not the full reason, it was a contributing factor for her lack of presence currently in King's Landing. An abundance of differing opinions and beliefs, to women wielding swords, to the general laws and religious practices. It was the opposite and while some were attracted, they repelled the other like a plague.

Then again, Maeve shut her up when she pointed out her husband commits incest like a fish drinking water, she had nothing to say to that as it was true, and holding Maeve to beliefs that she ignored for her husband was hypocritical and low. The Seven, Old Gods, the infamous R'hllor of Essos, Drowned God and the like, they meant everything to those who gave them power.

Her antagonism of Maeve had ceased then, she apologised and has not spoken to her since. Prue would not mind a better relationship with them, or her... she just has to set her own foot forward.

The thoughts in her head were once again not presiding over her task at hand so she instead lays the parchment down and stands. A small stretch to work her tired and dormant joints and bones.

Prudence begins to make her way outside the solar, Ser Darklyn stood at her door under Haedryn's orders. It was not uncommon for Ser Darklyn to accompany her husband through the lands and on expeditions, or even to King's Landing for visits; but as her pregnancy was nearing its end, relative peacetime was upon the realm and Narrow sea, the Prince thought it best for him to stay and safeguard his wife.

As the duo stepped through the large keep, their destination apparently being the dining hall for Prue was a bit famished, a series of quick footsteps that slowly increased in sound made itself known behind them. Ser Steffon turned abruptly and laid a hand on his sword as he tried to assess the newcomer; quick footsteps in dim hallways never sit well.

Lady Prudence also turned her head but was not alarmed enough to do much more and she had unwavering faith her fellow Darklyn's protection, alas, it was unwarranted as a young squire to one of the knights who reside on Bloodstone ran to notify their liege Lady. Ser Steffon recognized him as Monter Hill, a Westerlands bastard, but squire to Ser Wayland Merryweather of Longtable, second son of Lord Merryweather.