The Storm Queen | Game of Thrones

Two

Cassana

Nerves begin to overcome me while I sit by my fathers' side at the joust, in the place of honour.

The kings most beloved daughter, most beloved princess. Ever the joyful image, clad in gold wearing a blissful smile and the innocent eyes of a doe.

Never faltering, not while the eyes and ears of this keep are forever watching.

Not while my grandfather watches.

Here I sit like a mare on display, ripe to be ridden by the highest bidder.
Little do they know I was sold as a child, I am not up for offer.

All my life groomed to perfection.

Groomed to obey, for duty.
Groomed for something greater than this.

Yet here I am about to be shipped off to the North, so far away I may as well be forgotten, exiled even.

And the architect of it is not my father, but Tywin. Even in a decision that is meant to bring me happiness he still wins and I am defeated.

The respect I've earned over the years, the influence. It means nothing in the North.

All my life I've dreamed of two things.

Running far from this city to somewhere I can be truly free.

And power.

But not as my father sees it, or my mother, or Joffrey. But the power to do what is right, to do what my father cannot.

To do what I could do if I was a man.

I watch as men come to blows before us, and I watch as blood is spilt for cheap thrills.
My father applauds and Joffrey laughs a little too gleefully while my mother distracts Myrcella and Tommen from the sight.

By the time Loras comes to the field my glass has been emptied at least thrice, enough to push my doubts from my mind.

Enough to quench the resistance in me, enough to make me the perfect princess.

Loras rides towards me and presents me with a Tyrell rose but his eyes do not meet mine. They look to Renly.

"For the princess on her name day."

I'm sure he can see the coldness in my eyes at the heartless gesture but either way, I smile as I take the flower. "Thank you Ser Loras."

"Yes yes now hurry up, get on with it," Father groans impatiently and while they ready themselves on the field I look over to Renly who watches me and I know this is his doing.

Usually, I would dismiss such a thing as keeping up appearances but I know this is different. The Tyrells want me, Margaery is willing to seduce me into a marriage and even Renly seeks to have me wed his lover.

While my face remains perfectly neutral bitterness fills me, one that goes unnoticed except for one.

"Cassana?" Mother asks but I merely look at her. Wearing the same mask I learned from her.

"It is lovely isn't it," I comment like a sweet little songbird. "A wonderful joust."

"Indeed it is," Tywin says from beside her. "The next event this large will be your wedding."

My mothers' jaw locks tight as she bites her tongue and I turn my attention back to the joust, yet my mind drifts to Robb Stark.

The man who will become my husband.