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PERSEPHONE RUMINATED; VOID OF ALL EXPRESSION IN HER YOUTHFUL YET HARDENED FACE. Still, the fury was evident in her hands, that did not tremble-with their scars of experience and years of weapon-wielding, they glided down the blade with a mixture of care and aggression. Only a worn-out, beige cloth separating her hands from the glinting, magnificent blade.
Niklaus looked at her with equal adoration and pride; she was her father's daughter, there was no doubt about it. From her mouth, constantly stuck in an aloof, uncaring position to her piercing eyes, observant and full of wonder yet judgemental and cold-all at once.
The carriage was moving too slow to spark any real enjoyment. The idea of a horse, galloping, with wind whipping and lashing and howling, held much more appeal. Evergreen conifers towered, swaying in the bitter, icy breeze. Persephone sighed; soon enough she'd be out of the beautiful North, and in King's Landing. Corruption lurking around every corner, amongst the poverty and waste, and it's endless amount of brothels and criminals. The distain must have been evident on her face, for a clear of Niklaus' throat snapped Persephone out of the grisly thought of the heart of the Seven Kingdoms.
"Persephone, dear. I was quite surprised when you offered to accompany us. I know how much you adore the North, and despise King's Landing. What came over you?"
Persephone sighed. She didn't actually know why she wanted to go to King's Landing, it wasn't anything special, like the North.
"I came for Arya, father. You know how much of a bore it would be for her without me." A grin appeared on her face, but her eyes remained cold.
Niklaus scoffed. Unlike with his other daughters, he could be brash, and boyish, and sarcastic, knowing that the female warrior opposite him would reply with just the same.
"Of course, I'm sure Arya's ecstatic as well as flattered. The Persephone Salem sacrificing so much to entertain her." Humour and challenge glowed in his deep, brown eyes, a hearty laugh filling the silence of the carriage.
Persephone rolled her eyes and shook her head, a single curl falling from the loose braid, dishevelled and framing her elegant face. Her foot found it's place in her father's shin, quickly retreating. She glared, a mischievous grin plastered across her face, the low age of nineteen more evident in the rare gleam in her eyes.
Silence quickly fell again on the carriage. Only the deep breaths of a sleeping Odessa filled it, along with its rumble as it rode along the dirt path.
Persephone's eyes' strained in the darkness, barely adjusting to the dimly lit tavern. Robert Baratheon howled and slammed his fat hands on the weathered, wooden table. Beer, and wine sloshed and splattered across the tables, laughter and shouting filling the small room.
