the castle yard.
The Sept, as always, was quiet. While her vigils to the gods tended to occur in the evenings, Jyana has opted to go earlier in hopes to catch a glimpse of Prince Baelor. And while it’s going into the second hour in which she waits, she continues to wait patiently. Meanwhile, as she does so, she is on her knees, in front of the father, her hands clasped in front of her and her eyes closed in quiet reflection.
While she was no close friend of the Blackbolt, she was fast friends with the sister of Baelor’s sworn shield. It is thanks to her that she managed to get a rough estimate on when the prince’s protectors usually escort him to the Sept for prayers.
A bell rings, calling a change of the hour, and the septon who had been watchfully and silently presiding over the sept in the previous hours departs as a more elderly robed septon arrives to take his place. A few sept-goers depart, and a few more enter ... and first among them, this time, is Prince Baelor. His sworn shield is beside him, though he falls back as the young prince moves deeper into the play of light and dark which is the sept.
He does not take any especial notice of the lady. She is but another one come to find solice in the holy light of the gods. The septon murmurs a blessing for the prince, who kneels before him. There is a response, and a further blessing, before the prince begins to move—still on his knees, in a sign of humility—to the first of the seven altars.
The ring causes her to open her eyes and look up, watching the robed ones switch, and then the door opening to reveal the young prince as he walks up to the altars with his sworn shield. She, however, doesn’t make any move to intercept him. The gods, of course, came first and she wasn’t about to disturb the prince from speaking with the entities he so revered. She can wait, for a little while longer, blessed by a seemingly endless capacity for patience.
She will remain silent, for as long as it takes. It is only when it looks like Prince Baelor has finished convening with the gods will she stand up from where she is kneeling, and quietly approach the young man before he leaves the sept completely. She does not hide her approach, and whenever the prince takes the time to notice her, she sweeps a graceful, but deferential curtsey.
With a light of happy zeal in his eyes, the prince—his white robes stained at the knees with dirt and grit, and perhaps just a little bit of blood (it’s difficult to tell in the light—begins to leave. He holds the Seven-Pointed Star, the book of holy wisdom, to his bosom. The curtsey from the young lady causes him to pause, however. There’s a moment’s pregnant silence, as he regards her with strange, purple eyes ... and then he smiles a beautiful smile. “Lady Jyana. The gods have called you to them, for you to be here, now. We must speak with one another.” He sounds impossibly earnest.
The pause causes a bit of that stalwart, quiet courage to falter, but when Jyana straightens her posture after the curtsey, there is no hesitation. The beautiful, earnest smile earns one of her own - tinged with a hint of apology in the corners. “I think the gods have decided to give me this chance at last. I am heartened by your desire to converse, your highness, for I have been meaning to for quite some time. Unfortu “
Nothing found.
By my calculations, assuming he takes ship (dragooning one of the villagers, for example, to take him on a small fishing boat), he can be at Stonedance in 5-6 days (this includes one day of travel by horse to the castle itself, which is on the opposite shore of Massey’s Hook), and then a galley from Stonedance will take about another 5-6 days to get him to KL.
Lord Massey will naturally be quite upset at the news, and will question Ammon closely on the details. Knowing that he’ll be going to King’s Landing, he’ll assure him that Massey men-at-arms will go the village and then scour the area of the lands as best they can to apprehend any lingering bandits. During the day or two that Ammon might spend there, he’ll see the Masseys go about doing just that, dispatching a galley and two long boats loaded with troops (about a hundred) to the village.
“Lets us sit, then, and talk, and pray as the gods will,” Baelor responds, and he leads the way to a hard, carved bench in an alcove of the sept. Ser Doran takes note, and positions himself anew to keep an eye on the prince but remains out of earshot.
“It is written that those who have sinned are merely lost, and need guidance to the right path,” the prince finally says, after regarding the lady for a long minute in silence. “The gods put it in my heart that I could help you from your dark straits, Lady Jyana.”
“Yes, your highness.” Jyana follows the prince to where he leads her, taking a seat on the bench, and folding her hands on her lap. She bears his scrutiny with grace, her aquamarine eyes watching those strange, violet ones. Even now there is a certain awe from within herself, watching the Targaryen scion, any Targaryen scion, bearing that same, unearthly beauty they all possessed.
When he speaks, her eyes cast down to her fingers, though they do not tighten or reflect any sort of dismay. “I know that there must be things I am not aware of that I must atone for, on top of the things I am aware of that I must atone for, your highness. We are but human, after all, and far from perfect like the Mother in her benevolence, or the Father in his ideals on Justice.” She looks up to look at him, her face gently serious. “My prince honors me by his desire to help me. It is my fervent hope that one day I will be able to meet your expectations.”
She pauses. “I must tell you something, your highness. Like my forebears all I wish to do is serve the realm the best I can. I was not born a man, and unlike my esteemed cousin Jonothor or my father, I cannot bear arms for the good of the realm. It is my greatest wish that I would be able to do what I can through my service to your wonderful sister.”
“To hear from my belovd cousin that you have heard something that paints my character in a darker light is distressing to me.” Her eyes lift to look at the Prince. “Please believe me when I say that I have been nothing but chaste all my life.”
The prince seems to have readied a speech, for his mouth opens as he’s about to begin ... and then he stops, and for an instant he frowns. “Are you sure?” he asks, at the end, in all honesty. He’s young, it can’t be forgotten; not much younger than Jyana, to be sure, but even so. “Your cousin was greatly concerned for the purity of your spirit, and it seemed to me the gods spoke to me that I would lead you to the right way.”
“I am not a stranger to rumors, your highness,” Jyana says softly. “Being subjected to them, I mean. I am certain my cousin speaks only in concern of my welfare in hopes, perhaps, that I would listen to you - and I would, very much, if I was guilty of such a thing. I have no doubt he heard this from someone malicious, or someone who was mistaken. But I would never compromise my integrity in such a manner, your highness. Especially not while I am your sister’s lady in waiting.” She searches his frowning face for a moment. “...perhaps this was meant to happen because you are to lead me in a path I am blind to currently?” she suggests.
Baelor is flabbergasted, and rendered speechless momentarily. The youthful prince, long silver-gold locks tumbling to his shoulders, purple eyes wide, is the picture of innocence thwarted. When he finally musters something to say, it reveals his confusion. “Your cousin ... Ser Sarmion ... was very adamant. How could he be so sure that you had sinned with one of the hostages? If such a great knight is wrong, why ... why, it must be as you say. Some sinner has spread vile lies.” Stuck on the idea of figuring it all out, his brows furrow as he considers. His grip on the holy book tightens, as if looking for reassurance, or guidance.
“I am not certain,” Jyana says quietly. “In truth it disturbs me as well. If someone has been ....bismirching my character to him and it disturbed him so greatly he spoke to you about it, or something else. I am afraid I do not have all of the answers though I wish I did to ease your mind, your highness.” She watches him then, blue-green eyes filling with sympathy. “I intend to get to the bottom of it, in any event, just as I have done before in Lady Carmella’s case. But please, my lord, I swear sincerely to the Seven that no man has known me intimately.”
Still seeming stunned, Baelor nods his head slowly. “The gods will hear that, and hold you to it,” the prince says, a thin quaver in his voice. “I must think on this, my lady, and understand how it came to pass that I was mislead.” His slender fingers squeeze the book more tightly as he says that. “I will let anyone who asks know that you are as devout a child of the Seven as any woman could hope to be. You must be a good influence upon my sister, Daena.” He starts to rise then, after an uncertain ending to that last sentence which makes it sound as much a question as a statement of fact.
“If I am not now, I will expend all my efforts to be, for her,” Jyana replies, standing up when he does. “And thank you very much for your aid, and your word. I do not swear such things so lightly, not when I depend on the gods so much to keep my head clear, and not when I depend on them to bring my father home safe and sound. I apologize, your highness, for any pain or confusion this has caused. If I had known sooner that such grievous slander has been attached to my name perhaps I have been able to prevent this from troubling you.”
“Your highness…” Jyana says softly, her expression gentling at the shy look, and the obviously gentle and goodhearted soul that stood before her. But after a moment of silence, she nods, and curtseys to him. “I will not keep you from them, of course,” she says. “It is an error, but I do not believe it to be of your own making. Thank you very much for speaking with me and offering me your guidance, and your ear. It is a tremenduous honor, and has done wonders in soothing my own heart.”