↪ closed starter for myrcella baratheon ( @retrouviel ) in the rooms allotted to house baratheon.
one body had become two somewhere between the hour of the wolf and the hour of the nightingale ─ jocelyn had padded through the dark room, bare feet squeaking on the floor as they clambered into bed beside their sister, curling up against her back until the rising sun began to peek through the curtains. myrcella seemed to have slept well, which pleased the youngest of the triplets, though they could not say the same for themselves. the whole matter with the poisoning, the deaths and now the funeral had stirred up some unpleasant memories from their mother's passing, which was why jocelyn had sought out their sister to begin with but, stifling a yawn against myrcella's arm ( and, naturally, biting down lightly to wake their sister up ), they wondered if their siblings were having the same thoughts or if the guilt was solely their own. ❝ ... we have to be in the sept after breakfast. ❞ from sunrise until sunset, though a few hours were granted for the nobles to eat and dress. ❝ the funeral rites will be in the evening and then there is a feast ... do you remember the boar i caught for mother's dinner ? ❞ that was all jocelyn seemed good for ─ running and killing things. ❝ ... have you been sleeping well ? being this far from a proper godswood ... does it ... help ? ❞
