"Careful, Jamiela! You might trip!" A giggle erupted from the young girl at the left, as she darted around a boy of twelve, her chestnut brown locks danced in the crisp winds. The boy, Renly, smiled as he playfully chased her around. The father chuckled, as his wife leaned his hand slyly at his shoulder.

"They have grown." The man murmured softly, the woman nodding along. "They truly have. It breaks my heart." They were interrupted by footsteps at the far right.

"My Lord," The messenger knelt. The father nod his head. "Rise." The man rose on his feet, and placed his arms at his back. "Your ship is ready, my Lord." The messenger bowed, before darting off, leaving the elder Baratheons to their privacy.

"Steffon, are you sure about this?" The woman asked her husband. Steffon stiffened at first, but the tension lasted only for a moment.

"Yes. Now we must leave."

♚•♚♢♚•♚

          The Baratheon lady's eyes opened, and shut again. The light was blinding, that Jamiela had to slowly open her lids to adjust to her surroundings. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, and sat up. The curtains were already up, so Myriane must have went inside to open them. Unless....

"You're awake." Her eyes met Renly's and Jamiela smiled a bit. "Good morning." The words slipped off his tongue with gentleness, and Renly offered his hand to his sister.

Eager, Jamiela took it, and helped herself up. Renly gestured to the tray at the table at the far right, with a teapot and cups sitting on top. "Your handmaiden prepared those. In fact, she was far too eager to deliver it to you. She insisted that she showed me here herself."

Jamiela resisted the urge to roll her eyes playfully. Myriane did have a girlish crush on her brother, bothering Jamiela a bit. There was one afternoon, all Myriane could talk about was how handsome Renly was, etc.

"Well, I can't blame her. I think she enjoyed serving for you. A quiet lady, who wants nothing but books. It makes their work easier." Jamiela wanted to say, that it wasn't that, but a history of looking through Renly in the lore books, and sneaking a glance at her brother, but decided to keep her mouth shut.

"Anyways, Robert's out hunting with Lord Rickard and his sons, Brandon and Eddard. So basically, we have the castle to ourselves for now." Jamiela suddenly remembered Lyanna's invitation for a few lessons, and her face lightened at once.

"That's great!"

Renly chuckled at her sudden interest. "I thought so. I somehow knew that your reaction will be in the midst of happiness and sneakiness." told her brother.

"But first, I'll head to the library for my morning book." Renly was barely able to stifle his own groan, causing his sister to laugh.

♚•♚♢♚•♚

          Jamiela's hands brushed the spine of the vintage books, as dust found its way on her nails, but the Baratheon didn't seem to mind. There was no special event happening, right?

Her eyes searched for titles that interest her, give it about minutes later, Jamiela was holding seven books stacked on top of each other in her pale hands, albeit it was heavy.

"Need a hand?" She turned to see the third born Stark, whose name goes by.. Benjamin? "Um, I can manage." said Jamiela, even if her struggle was rather obvious. The Stark gave a half-hearted smirk, before getting a few books from the pile, lessening the weight. "Here."

"Thank you." managed Jamiela, as they walked towards her bedroom. "Lady Jamiela. And I would curtsy for you right now, if I wasn't holding these." She added quickly, before realizing how snarky that sounded.

"It isn't needed. Benjen Stark." He introduced, and Jamiela mentally cursed at herself for her utter foolishness. Why, oh why, was Jamiela Baratheon born with an uncontrollable and sharp tongue? "Charmed."

Benjen nodded, as his chivalry acted, opening the door like a true prince. Jamiela gave a slight nod. "Thank you. Again." Benjen bowed.

"I'm happy to help." Jamiela smiled again, before closing her door, and spinning around to come face-to-face with Myriane, who was grinning gleefully. "Uh....?"

"Is it just me, or did I see you talk to the er Eddard Stark?" Jamiela raised an eyebrow.

"You mean, a while ago? No, that was Ben-" Her sentence was interrupted by Myriane. "No! I meant, last night! He brought you here, right?" She was shaking uncontrollably, and Jamiela braced herself for squeals.

"He did bring me to my room.." Myriane was already smiling - luckily not squealing - wildly, and started chattering. "Ah! I'm so proud, my lady is finally getting a man! Ah!" Jamiela badly wanted to smack herself. Now, these were the times when Jamiela had no idea why was she assigned to Myriane Seryn.

"Also, did you hear? Renly Baratheon just talked to me! His handsome jawline, and that hair! I resisted the urge to ruffle it with my own soft hands! Ahh.." Jamiela wanted to point out that Myriane did not have soft hands, but just shrugged and smiled sympathetically. Let her dream a bit, Jamiela. Not many can do so.

Because we are living in fucking Westeros, where nowhere is safe, and that fantasy is a lie, a variation from the actual reality.

After Myriane stopped, her expression turned from giddy to serious. "Now that we have a suitor in the line, we have to prep you, possibly accentuate your already-beautiful features! A stunning woman like you must deserve a man of honor and good looks!" Myriane brushed Jamiela's shoulders down to a chair, and the Baratheon couldn't do anything about. Once Myriane was focused on a goal, she'll do everything - repeating, everything - to accomplish it. Jamiela sighed in exhaustion.

There was a knock on the door, and Myriane went to get it, revealing Lyanna outside, outfitted in black leather, and wolf fur skin, her hair neatly arranged in a coiffured style. "I would like to bring Lady Jamiela out. We had a promise last night." Jamiela gave her a sharp look, but Lyanna did not seem to receive it.

Myriane took a step back, and bowed. "Of course, my lady. I would just dress her for appropriate occasion. May I politely ask where will this take place?"

"Outdoors." Jamiela could barely stifle her laugh at the look of horror on Myriane's face.

♚•♚♢♚•♚

          "I overheard your handmaiden say that you like my brother, Ned. Is that true?" Jamiela turned to Lyanna, who was staring at her with a questioning look.

"It's not like that. He just brought me to my room, that's all." Lyanna nodded, in agreement. "Definitely a Ned thing. Among the four of us, Ned was always the dutiful one, besides Brandon, since he has to be."

Jamiela's boots squished against the gravel, as the two ladies walked side by side towards the village. She was overwhelmed by the memory of her last visit, but Jamiela didn't want to appear like a wimp in front of a warrior like Lyanna Stark, so she kept quiet.

"So.. Jamiela, could you tell me what this village has to offer?" Jamiela's mind burst with thoughts, and she looked at Lyanna. "Well, there is a market, a flower shop, a weapons stall.." She was cut off by the sudden clap of Lyanna. "Great! Show me the way to the weapons stall!" Jamiela found it intriguing why Lyanna wanted to go there, but you couldn't argue with the Stark.

"Um, alright. Here." Jamiela found herself walking towards the same path she took that day towards the man's house. She turned to a corner, and Jamiela thought she saw them, but figured that it was just a figment of her wild and crazy imagination. They were dead. Jamiela saw them slain before her own eyes.

"Jamiela? Are you fine? You turned pale, like you saw a ghost.." asked her companion. Jamiela shook her head quickly. "Nothing. I'm still sane." Lyanna gave her a sympathetic nod.

"Come on, we got to head there before Robert and the others arrive."

♚•♚♢♚•♚

          Lyanna challenged her to race back to the castle, and now, Jamiela was tired than ever, and sweating like a pig. When Myriane saw her weary state, she barely controlled her temper. "My lady! Gods, did you go running?!"

Jamiela resisted a laugh, as Myriane became aware of what she and Lyanna were up to. "I shouldn't have allowed you to go with that girl. She is indeed something else."

"Yeah. She is." Jamiela agreed, as Myriane brushed her hair. "Now we have to fix you up. Lord Robert wouldn't want your hair in many places if he has something important to say at tonight's dinner." says her handmaiden.

"Yeah. We don't." was all Jamiela said before passing out in exhaustion.

♚•♚♢♚•♚

          "We have something important to say." Jamiela was in a middle of drinking her soup, and stuffing loaves of bread in her mouth. Robert stood as he got everybody's attention, and nodded to Lord Rickard for the speech.

"Lord Robert and I have been talking lately, and I would like to propose a betrothal. Actually, two betrothals." Robert eyed Jamiela closely, as she had no clue to what Lord Rickard was about to say.

"I betroth my daughter, Lyanna Stark, to Lord Robert Baratheon of the Stormlands." A collective gasp could be heard from the crowd, as the servants tuned in to listen. Lyanna looked a tad lot horrified, and Jamiela couldn't help but feel a bit bad for her.

"And.." Robert started, his posture straight and composed, no doubt to win Lyanna's wild heart, and make her seem that he would make a good husband. "I would be betrothing my sister, Jamiela Baratheon, " The young Baratheon lady was barely able to breathe before her brother continued.

"To Eddard Stark of Winterfell, son of Lord Rickard Stark of Winterfell."