The waves washed softly on the King’s Landing beaches, barely making a hushed whisper of a crash. It was a calm day, a perfect day for sailing. However, she was stuck on the mainland, feet firmly planted on soil instead of the rolling bucking deck of The Golden Harpy. She had never gotten a formal order restraining her to the Capital, but the message of her leaving would cast unneeded suspicions on herself. Despite her innocence in the events that had occurred, she knew that people would think she had been involved.
Walking a few steps forward, she kicked her heavy boots off, letting her bare feet feel the lapping of waves over them. The sound of footsteps behind her did not deter her attention, but did allow her to snap out a quick order, “Remi, have an urchin fetch my bow and arrows, I’ll be training at the butts,” she said in her clipped tone, assuming the footsteps belonged to her first mate.
