Book 1: Prints in the Snow

Chapter XVI • Close Encounters

"A troubling event, this murder. Especially so at the time it happened. Fortunately, it didn't sour the day's festivities, but I hear you and your sweet sister, Sansa, retired for the evening shortly after."

"Yes, your Grace. Father thought it'd be best if we returned to the keep for fear of havoc breaking loose. A noble gesture, he was only trying to protect his daughters."

"A noble gesture indeed." The queen mused. Another morning spent breaking her fast with the queen. Lyon's stomach was much more settled now that the previous day had ended. "Seems you can't be caged either. You caused quite the disturbance with your disappearance yesterday evening. What with a murderer loose."

"Murderers run rampant everywhere, your Grace. This one just killed someone highly notable. No offense intended- I don't mean to speak ill of the deceased."

"No offense taken, Lyon. Besides, I hear Lord Barton was a fowl man. His own family doesn't take too kindly to him, I hear. The death he got was the death he deserved."

Lyon lifted her eyes to glimpse the cold expression on the queen's face and found herself nodding. "Then justice, as impure as it was, has been done."

"My dear," Cersei chuckled as she sipped her wine. "What makes you think justice is anything but?" Cersei met her eyes over her goblet and smiled grimly. "I've kept you for long enough, and we've since finished our meal. Please, reunite with your beloved family. I'm sure they eagerly await you."

"Thank you, your Grace. It has been a pleasure as always." Lyon rose and curtsied, taking her leave from the queen's company with her bitter words still ringing in her ears. Such a skeptical and bitter opinion that justice was impure. Especially for a queen whose job, by definition, was to keep justice. It was a curious state of things. Very curious.

For several days it was rather quiet. Little more was heard about the murder of Lord Barton, other than a man had been apprehended for the suspected murder. Apparently, he'd been boasting, drunk, about how he'd killed the man himself and even, somehow, sported the dead man's missing ring. Lyon felt no chill, knowing this man had been put away. There was a sense of relief instead. Good that someone else was arrested for the crime of murder and not she. Strange though, how he'd come across that ring. But that was all in the past now and not to fretted over for any longer.

Life had become quiet again. Lyon would break her fast with her queen, then return to her father and sisters with a book and take part in the conversation when needed. Arya's dancing lessons provided a much-needed activity that Lyon was becoming used to, and was often quite willing to escort her there and take part in. Syrio Florel had a way with the blade, and Lyon found his knowledge refreshing. The ache of her muscles after each session made for an easy night's sleep- dreamless and serene.

Yet there was one morning where her usual routine was disrupted. Queen Cersei did not call upon her as usual. There was no escort waiting to lead her to the Queen's dining quarters, so instead, she quietly made her way to her own family.

Only her father sat, so early in the morning, as breakfast was being dished out. Lyon let the aroma pervade her senses, and she smiled. "Good morning, father."

He looked up from his doings- a letter open before him- and smiled at Lyon. "You've decided to join us."

"The queen did not call upon me this morning, so I decided to take advantage of this opportunity. Where are Arya and Sansa?"

"They've been sent for."

"Hmm." Lyon reached for a pitcher of water from the table and poured. "Sansa is usually impossible to wake. That girl sleeps like a rock."