Chapter XVIII

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XVIII

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XVIII. Beginning of a Dynasty

284 A.C.

"Livia, you look stunning."

Livia turned from the mirror toward her sister, forcing a smile on her face. "Thank you, Cersei."

She was the portrait of what every bride should aspire to look like on their wedding day.

Her gown was made with ivory silk embroidered with gold thread swirling into intricate patterns. Her hair was done in a simple manner yet gold dust was streaked into it giving her hair the impression of shimmer.

She wore the lion pendant that Tyrion had given her in a gold chain. A gold bracelet adorned her wrist and upon her finger was a simple ring, decorated with tiny diamonds. Her bruises had faded away, leaving behind pearly white skin.

Yet no matter how hard she tried, she could not take on the role of the happy bride. She could not calm her nerves nor attempt to be happy. She had always faced things as they were.

Livia would not fool herself that this marriage would make her happy. It was a marriage of convenience. For the Lannisters to gain more power, for the good of the family.

As for Robert Baratheon, he needed allies, rich allies at that. With Lyanna Stark gone, he would not be able to marry whom he wishes so that left him with her. 

It was funny. Being the second choice. Knowing that the only reason you are standing there is because the one who was supposed to be there was gone.

She would ensure that she was neither a substitute nor a last resort. Thus the deal they had struck the day before.

She may have lost herself but there were some things that remained. Things that were ingrained into her so deeply ever since she was born.

Duty. Honor. Pride.

Livia looked to her sister who repeatedly fussed with her hair. Walking over to her, she used her hands to flatten Cersei's hair. "Your hair looks fine, sister. Don't make such a fuss."

Cersei only rolled her eyes. "Easy for you to say, you always look beautiful. Everyone says so." She spoke, her tone laced with a hint of jealousy.

"Not everyone looks perfect all the time." Livia chided, as ladies brought over her maiden's cloak.

The red cloak was embellished with the Lannister sigil, the roaring lion. It was another reminder that she is to be a part of another family after the ceremony.

Livia couldn't help but run her fingers over the cloak, it may be expensive, yes, but she found comfort in its familiarity. It was fashioned after her own mother's cloak as if her mother was there with her.

"Thank you." Livia said to her ladies who then helped her place the cloak upon her shoulders, the slight weight providing a burden upon her already burdened shoulders.

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