CHAPTER 26 - "Promise me we'll meet again."

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               Since the riot, I have spent most of my time with Sansa. The girl was deeply upset by what happened to her. She has missed out on worse things than the death and hatred these men bore her will undoubtedly pursue her for the rest of her life.

               Every second she's with me proves how much she's changed. Sansa was blabbermouth who mocked anyone who looked at her for too long. Now she doesn't talk much. She's not smiling either.

               I changed too. Another time confident, I let Joffrey and Littlefinger lure me into their nets. I lost confidence in myself and my abilities. But since Meryn Trant's death, the trend has reversed. The news has spread rapidly in the Red Keep. Already the next day I could not walk in the corridors without the murmurs rising.

               I got used to it. It's quite nice. People respect me now. Trant was an important member of the Royal Guard, so you can imagine what we think of the young woman who killed him with unknown powers.

               Few saw me do it that day. But the rumor that I lifted a block of stone without touching it has already toured the castle. Very little is said about the dome of wind around me, which I regret. It was much more impressive.

               I only met Joffrey for our royal obligations. The young man no longer dares to look me in the eye, which I would not regret. Now he's the afraid one.

♐︎

               When I'm not with Sansa, I spend my days with Tyrion and Bronn. We stay whole evenings drinking and imagining new plots.

               Sitting next to the dwarf Lannister, I leaf through Littlefinger's account book. We must admit that he is good with numbers but also to borrow money. The crown has more debt to pay than people to govern. As I prepare to question Tyrion about where we will find all this money, Varys enters the room.

"Lord Hand. Majesty" he greets us, lowering his head slightly.

"Lord Varys why are you here?" asks Tyrion.

               I get up from my chair to take the parchment handed to me by the eunuch.

"What is it?"

"It was written by your brother's hand, ma'am."

"Robb...?"

"I'm afraid the news is bad..."

               Worried, I hasten to open the letter. It was marked with the Stark wolf and signed by Robb. For almost 2 years now, I have never received any letters from my family, not even from Bran, who stayed in Winterfell.

               My eyes go through the letter quickly. Once, twice.... The third time, the information goes to my brain. Yet I don't move, I don't even dare look at Tyrion, he might see me as weak as I really am.

"What does he say?" asks the dwarf.

               When I try to speak, a sob forms in my throat. I take the time to close my eyes to regain my calm.

"Theon..." I articulate. "He... He took Winterfell and..."

               Taken from a top the heart, I put a hand on my mouth and turn in profile.

"Theon Greyjoy executed the two young Starks, Sir." Varys finishes, leaving me a few more seconds to come to my senses.

"Wasn't Theon the faithful doggie of the Starks?" asks Tyrion, just as surprised as I am.

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