A Dance of Shadows, chapter 8
Hello! I hope you like this one! Next one will be Arianne Martell.
The storm was only beginning. The wind was howling in the night, coming with the grey rain.
Everything was grey in this country. Grey the earth, grey the sea. Grey again the stones of their castle, each piece barely recognizable from the others. No true color could be seen. No red, yellow and blue. Not like it was when she was home. She had once been joyous by nature, always seeing the good in people, the world in general. Now, so much older and so much wiser, she still had to say that such a gloomy atmosphere wasn’t to her taste.
Kinvara shook her head from the seat she had taken near the window. She was the Flame of Truth, the Light of Wisdom. She had to go wherever the Lord told her to go. Wherever His chosen had chosen her to go.
“Why isn’t she answering?”
The voice of Aegon Targaryen came thundering across the walls of the old castle of Pyke. The bricks did not break from it, but still, it was a monstrous thing to see, Kinvara thought as he hit the table with his fists closed and began to pace nervously around it.
“Does she think I’m a fool?” He continued, shaking his head with frustration.
“She thinks you’re dead, your Grace,” intervened Yara Greyjoy with a bored tone as she looked at her nails on one of the corner. “As we all thought.”
“Well here I am, now.” He said, glowering. “And I’m not here to wait for one foolish girl to make her decision. Nor for the usurper to finally notice me.”
If he hadn’t already, the High Priestess thought. And the sooner, the better.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/18961603/chapters/45884350
