The Lord of Last Hearth found pleasure in their common hatred, though as if she had began to release such hatred out into the world upon hearing his name, Desmond could feel that her hatred burned brighter and more vibrant than his own. Such was to be expected, seeing as Lady Lyanna had lost her beloved sister to such a dishonorable man. “And neither I with yours, Lady Lyanna.” Perhaps he hated Torrhen so much because of what they had in common, a rather sad upbringing by two horrible men. Combarable, were Harald Umber and Medrick Karstark, their methods harsh and their hearts black like coal. But both were dead, though at what cost? How many had fallen while the breathed? Too many… “We do. Secrets that are better left kept than spread. The North is a rather unforgiving place, much like those who inhabit it.”
As they walked, his eyes wandered from merchants, to carts with silks, satin’s, fruit and other assortments of goods. But more often than not, his eyes were on Lady Lyanna, pondering her beauty and grace, but also wondering what laid underneath. A serpent, he suspected, or perhaps that of a siren, which would match the crest that laid softly against her left breast. Darkness had always tempted Desmond, he’d made friends with it long ago and found himself searching for it in others. It was as though he could smell it on her, feel it, drawn to it as it nestled in Lady Lyanna’s chest. Had it only grown since her sister’s death, he wondered? Or had it always been there? “My hope will lay in your fortune, Lady Lyanna.” The Lord smiled, eyes narrowing at her question as he grew deep with thought. “From time to time. But I find my thoughts are better suited in our politics, or finding a formidable bride. Children will come next.”
Desmond did not mind walking. In fact, he much preferred it so that he may clear his head. Often times he was plagued with vicious thoughts, even more so with his aunt’s engagement. Gods, he did loathe the thought of it…Meera Karstark…what sick joke was this? “I have not a worry about time, my lady. But I do wonder, if I may be so bold to ask, what it is you wish to gain, Lady Lyanna? In life, mostly, or perhaps for time’s sake in the next month.”
It was interesting to think of Lord Umber’s motives, aside from speaking of his dislike of Lord Karstark. Despite there being several houses allied against the crown, she wondered what kind of role the man before her would play. Everyone could sense the unsettling air, the prospect of an uprising within their own kingdom. The North was larger than almost all the realms combined, yet perhaps what others said was true - maybe they were all barbarians. Yet the whispers she had heard from other realms suggested that they were no more smarter, the same squabbles for land and power remained. Her Lord father would never betray the Stark king, he would preach of the promise which was made thousands of years before when sanctuary was offered to the Manderlys and they were gifted White Harbor. Lyanna dressed her pursuit for power up with a will to do good and if that meant overthrowing the Stark’s then so be it, but only if a crown was waiting for her. ❝ The North remembers, ❞ she quoted, glancing at the playing children. ❝ They will remember my sister. ❞
❝ Then I hope that the gods will smile upon me with such fortune and also bless you with a formidable bride, ❞ she offered, although in truth she did not really care whom Desmond married or if he decided to have children. Her concerns lay more with Meera Karstark and what game was being played between Meera and Torrhen, the joining of the houses did not seem like it was merely for convenience.
Her steps halted aside a stall which was selling bread and broth, it would be perfect for the little urchins. She produced a velvet purse full of coins, which had been attached to the lining of her cloak with ribbons. ❝ I will need enough for the orphanage , ❞ she instructed, motioning to the items which had been freshly made. The children would squeal in delight when she arrived, desperate to climb onto her knee as she told them stories and gifted toys. Looking at Lord Umber, she smiled. ❝ Would you mind carrying the broth? It is a little heavy for my wrists and I usually have Ser Jorah carry it, but he is assisting my lord father today. ❞
With his final question, Lyanna knew that she needed to answer with care. Fortunately, she had been playing the game for many years. ❝ I hope to act within my conscience, treating those with less, kindly and hopefully find happiness as both a wife and mother. ❞
