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MYRIAH
Ser Humfrey was one of those men who gave every lady the same, irresistible smile whenever they spoke to them. And they always had the same, heartbreaking excuses whenever they left them in the morning, making every woman run into his arms should they ever meet again. But Myriah was smarter than that.
She stood in front of him in her chamber, her hands clasped, with a sweet smirk on her lips. "I am pleased to see you again, Ser."
The knight glanced over his shoulder to Varion, who had a hand on his sword belt and a cold look on his face. "As am I, Princess." He responded once his eyes were on her again. "Or am I expected to address you with Your Grace?"
"You are," Varion answered his question before Myriah could.
"Varion, you may leave us now." She commanded him, frustrated by his inappropriate behavior, and sighed once he was out of the door.
"Now, this is what my septa warned me Northerners would look like." Humfrey jested, referring to the captain of her guard's appearance. "Where did you find him? In a cave, skinning rabbits?"
"You are being disrespectful. Varion is my husband's countryman. He got his scar fighting for Robb Stark, and now he loyally serves me, his Queen."
Humfrey chuckled, utterly amused by her words. "Gods be good, when did you get so boring?"
The Queen clenched her jaw and turned away from him, then took off Meria's crown and placed it on the great table where it laid this morning in its chest of old wood.
"I must admit I was rather disappointed to hear that you have wedded again," Hightower said, while he approached her. He stood close to Myriah, she even felt his breath on the skin of her neck. "I believed you would marry me. Especially since you are Ruling Princess of Dorne now."
She inhaled deeply. Marrying Ser Humfrey was an option she had considered a long time ago, and she would have made use of it if Jon hadn't come to her that one night and had gotten her pregnant, or if he would have refused her all along. But that prospect of having the fourth son of a Lord - that had most likely bought his knightly accolade and had bedded more women than his father had grandchildren - for a husband had never been satisfactory to her. No, it was smarter to change the topic of their conversation than to get deeper into the previous one. "Where is my son?"
Humfrey took a step back. On the sound of his voice, she noticed how offended he was by her refusal. "He should arrive here any minute should my slacker of a squire find the palace."
Her relieved laughter echoed through her sitting room and loggia, over the rooftops of the Shadow City. Myriah had to lean on the redwood table while she was trying to adjust that she was finally going to see her boy again. She had left him in Oldtown under the care of a wetnurse when he was not even a fortnight old. The past years she longed for him, especially in the months where she had carried Jon's babies, and she cursed herself for being able to banish every thought of him for the times of her travel north. The hour of their reunion was there.
