Charlotte was born a royal, a princess. A Lannister. Through the acts of thievery, she ends up in Winterfell, being raised by Lord and Lady Stark. As Jon Arryn's death has come to pass, King Robert needs a new Hand. Who other than her father, Eddard...
"Love is poison. A sweet poison, yes. But, it will kill you all the same."
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Charlotte's POV
I held two letters tightly in my hands, tears threatening to escape from the corners of my eyes. Robert Barartheon has died, and Prince Joffrey will soon take his father's crown as Protector of the Realm. Anger steaming from the depths of my being. Joffrey doesn't deserve the crown. I wanted another conversation with Robert... I may have disliked him with every inch of my being, but I didn't want him to die.
He had answers. Answers I needed about my role in this forsaken realm of Westeros. A dragon? A witch of sorts? A Queen?
The second letter...
My dearest daughter, I apologize with every bone in my body for the pain I have caused you. I just want to know that you are safe and well. I love you, Charlotte, and will until the day I die. Stay safe, my love.
My mother's heartfelt words seemed to tug at the thin strings in my heart. Each word pulling the strings tighter and tighter, until a point where I could no longer breathe for I all I could think of was her. She has to know that Jaime is not my father, yet she let me believe so. What mother does that to her child?
My tears stained the creased paper, causing the written words to smear black and blend together. A fathomless black hole enveloping everything that I was trying to hide. I've had two different mothers, three different fathers, and about eight different siblings within my lifetime. Yet, I felt withdrawn from the world with nobody who understood me.
I folded up the letter from my mother, and stuck in back into a small envelope. CLINK. A small pendant falls to the floor, a charm wrapped together with a bright golden chain. I should've known she would do something like this...
I reached down to pick up the pendant, finding a beautiful lion traced within the white-gold steel. For my Lion Princess... It was an identical pendant she had given Myrcella when the little girl turned five, and now she was giving one to me.
The metaphorical needles shaking in my hands wanted me to throw the pendant across the tent, hoping to never find it again. Whilst, the constant thud of my heartbeat wanted me to put the pendant around my neck, so I would have that small connection with my mother, because I may never see her again.
Too many high hopes... Too many disappointments.
•••
"Sebastian?"
I heard his voice before his face even came into sight. The deep bass of his voice reverberates through the walls of the tent, chills being sent up and down my arms. "Sebastian, is that you?" I flipped the red waves behind my back, and exited the tent.
