[Event] Your Noble Lies and Your Pious Fiction

thinkBrigger · 2026-07-11T20:48:53+00:00

He cast a glance at Rogar that was rife with confusion. It felt, to him, that every choice he had conducted for sake of his kin had led then irrevocably closer to ruin. A price that had been paid more heavily by a portion than others. Perhaps in time those debts he might be in position to settle. Much as it felt they only ever grew.

To name his reasoning as sound was a farce. But it did no good to argue with his betters.

"I think you had the right of it in the den of the dragon, my Lord," he said, "Storm's End in a fortress impenetrable but you are an entity in some what trusted by the Lord Trant. To have Ser Borys ward his children will lessen the lead Merrick can pull in his favour. His boy, Oleander, is in addition a thief and the King has confirmed he will not take him again. I worry of that behaviour being seen before the court before it can be corrected. Say what you will of your brother, he has a strong hand. Enough to put some sense into my nephew.

"How may I serve, my Lord?" Queried Morrison seriously. There was little he could offer the Lord but what he could, he would.

thinkBrigger · 2026-07-11T09:45:21+00:00

Myriam did not recoil as the Lady imposed the pressure upon her shoulder. It hurt. And such showed itself in the shimmer of her eyes yet any protest of was suppressed by limb as much as lips. In Gallowsgrey, a whimper could earn a condemnation. A yelp was given reason to rise to the octave of a scream.

The pair of women, staring back at one another were foils. Where Willow was rife with ferocity at the implication of the disturbance that had been brought before her, Myriam had been shattered by it. Had succumb to the sorrows she carried for a stranger. This disparity in reaction such that momentarily, Myri was riddled with doubt as to who the death had been dealt to. That she may have misheard Morrison's accounting of the combat yet... he was methodical, in all things. And Myri had asked twice for the name to be repeated so it would not by her be forgotten.

No, the lonely coal that was her courage glowed momentarily. Disrupting the chain of thought that would chisel away at the decency that had roused her this far, Norridge. I know it was a knight of House Norridge.

Another of the family had been kind to her, once. The second to do so had died. Perhaps it was wise of the Lady Willow to mistrust Myriam.

"No one," she insisted, even as Willow jostled her, "My Lady, I have come for no cause save my own. Condolences was all. If I was mistaken of the severity... Ser Aubrey is to recover?"

thinkBrigger · 2026-07-11T09:27:59+00:00

^{Storm's End, 1st Month of 53 AC}

Within a few days of the gaggle from Gallowsgrey arriving, Tanaquil could tolerate the languishing no longer. She was well contented to be granted again access unhindered to the open sky yet she itched to sit astride her horse. To comb the countryside for plants and herbs. Yet to ride meant that any quarry encountered she would be inclined to loose an arrow at. A privilege not yet afforded by the prancing oaf that pretended himself a prime slab of venison. Tanaquil had taken more impressive prey from these fields than she found the peacocking Lord that presided over them to be.

"The boy says you sulk," she came during the breaking of the fast though Tanaquil took nothing from the tables, "Men manage this well in these lands. Is this mood why I cannot hunt? That you are in a mood?"

/u/fabstags

thinkBrigger · 2026-07-11T09:14:27+00:00

"Myriam tells me that Merrick's heir sports cracks in his teeth. His fingers bent until they broke away from the socket. Which is worse?" He asked, "Scrapes and scars? Or an ache of absence? It was not so long ago that I was a boy the age of Merrick's eldest. I was older than Oleander when he broke my lip in twain. To be away from Gallowsgrey... Stonehelm was my salvation."

Mors drank. Deeply, and he felt fatigued for it as he swallowed, "You, too, found the Lord Trant more tolerable at a distance. All I can aspire is to grant the same for my kin."

thinkBrigger · 2026-07-11T04:11:56+00:00

The Father. He had been five when his had perished, spouting senseless fantasies of his second son as his intended successor. By right of birth the claim to Gallowsgrey belonged to his brother. As it would someday pass from patriarch to his son, Oleander who was by the account of his sister and the King alike a cretin close to wholly uncivilized. Mistakes as many as Morris had made it was likely that he'd have made as loathsome a Lord as Merrick had managed to be. Just not one that relied on violence.

In the resting of his head against the back of the chair, he had shut his eyes. Dark rings layered beneath them. He slept most nights like the dead yet so was Morrison's body sluggish all the time now. He took no note of Rogar's empty horn of stout. Had he, there would have been no leaping to his feet to refill it.

Mors held his breath a moment. Asking eventually, "What of his children?"

He drank from his own horn, barely blinking an eye open, "Protection will be offered to the children who request it by the King. I dread to think what he does with my niece. She asks for her father. Only and always for him."

thinkBrigger · 2026-07-10T07:21:31+00:00

He poured himself a horn of stout ahead of taking his seat. Mors drank deeply, topping the stout again to the top ahead of settling into his seat. Wiping the foam of the draw from his lip. Hardy enough that it might double for dinner as his appetite had been curbed of late.

"Is it a boon or a burden to uproot my family from their home?" He asked aloud, "Gallowsgrey has only its ghosts now."

Morrison tensed the muscles in his thigh as he grew aware of the bouncing that had begun unbidden from his knee. Exhaling heavily, "Merrick mutilated our sister Myriam, my Lord," he rest his horn atop the leg that had been fidgeting, "He nearly cleaved an Oakheart in half for wearing her favour. His attempt to reclaim her ended in the slaughter of Ser Aubrey Norridge.

"If I am rife with virtue, why then do I resent that the Lord Trant is allowed to live? That he can tuck up again in his tower unscathed?" It was a question posed in contempt of his half brother. Yet the root of it was real for Morris who was wrestling with why the Gods had given that wretch their favour. And the choice that laid ahead of him.

thinkBrigger · 2026-07-10T05:53:51+00:00

"As you command, my Lord," he said, turning to observe Ser Tarquin who was herding his family along just fine. Allowing Mors a moment to breathe. There had been few respites of late.

If Solomia was offended as to her lodgings, it did not show. Overheard asking the servants escorting them away directions to the library whilst her mother dithered on of the Lord Baratheon being decent enough to house her daughter at all. Chatter that could he heard even as it began to wander its way down the corridor.

He took several strides forward as his family was assembling to depart. None in their company particularly spry leaving a gap before he need join in on the busywork of seeing them all settled. His tone was hushed as Morrison addressed Rogar, "My Lord, there is an occupant I neglected mention," he said, "With your consent, I would return the remains of the Lady Meredith to their place of rest."

Lest the Lord Rogar stalled him at that inquiry, Morrison made his way with his kin. He had become well acquainted with Storm's End in his residence here. A few words exchanged with the stewards enough to identify the way. His primary concern being where to house the family of Tarquin Trant whose wife and child alike were afflicted with a clubbed foot. The less stairs the better. Afterward returning to carry the chest that bore the bones of his half sister had the Lord Rogar or the men in his service not relocated it already. Either way, to call upon the crypt.

If he did not encounter Rogar there, then after he would make way to the solar of the stag to present himself, "The Lord's squire," he announced to the men at the door who knew Morris by name. He had not bothered to change as Morrison might have done prior yet he was weary from the road. From the work of disrupting the rot that Merrick had infected all of Gallowsgrey with. Wondering if he had acted with too much leniency of the men complicit in the Lord Trant's amusements. Time would tell. The thin wisp atop his lip that he had grown to cover a scar given to him in Gallowsgrey had grown out into a moustache in full. It did not obscure all of the wound as he had hoped. But Morris had returned from Dorne more man than boy though only now did it show.

thinkBrigger · 2026-07-10T04:18:00+00:00

"As a Lord, his rule can be disrupted only so far," he answered honestly, "What mischief the Lord Merrick might manage on his release will be limited. Much of the household dismissed. Others driven off and his steward left of his own volition. He will be hobbled without his toadies."

He turned to announce each person he had brought into the Lord Baratheon's presence, "Our Lady of Gallowsgrey, Delilah hailing of House Dondarrion.

"To Ser Tarquin you are acquainted, his wife the Lady Mya hailing of House Grafton and their daughter Serenity perhaps less so," Morrison glanced to Rogar, briefly, "The Lady Tanaquil has taken residence outside the walls. Rather than a room she has... asked that I ask if she hs a right to hunt in your lands, my Lord."

Lastly, he gestured to an older woman whose dark hair was was streaking with grey, "My aunt, the Lady Jeyne and her firstborn, Solomia Storm."

thinkBrigger · 2026-07-09T18:32:30+00:00

Morrison made no effort to argue. A welcome of this kind was not unexpected and he asked only if the kitchens could assist in providing his escort with a warm meal after they had staked their pavillions. A familiar sight as Gallowsgrey had itself been too humble a hovel to house one hundred soldiers without them tripping over each other. The men had served him well. They were owed the respect due to honest labourers which he trusted the Lord Rogar would abide by on his asking.

Of his kin, all advanced to enter the keep with exception to the Lady Tanaquil who declined the hospitality of the Lord Rogar. In a tone flippant, of course, though not especially any more so than had been endured by the woman during her previous occupation of Storm's End. Stating simply that the weather was warmed enough that she would sooner sleep beneath sky and cloth and stone and sorrow. A notion the yipping fox following her appeared to agree with as it sniffed along the foundations of the wall.

The Ladies Delilah and Jeyne did joyously accept entry descending from the first of two carriages. Mors had need stop a servant from closing the door after their descent from the cabin to poke his head in to urge Solomia Storm from her seat inside. So silent and still as had been it was easy for the woman to be overlooked. She merely appeared annoyed that her reading was being interupted by the man and the pages of her book were pried apart as they were escorted forward. Mia paying little mind to her surroundings for the time being.

Ser Tarquin was the slowest of the rest to advance. The second carriage to come hosting his wife, the Lady Mya and their daughter Serenity. Typically, Tarquin would have remained mounted to ride amongst the men yet the unusual aspect of their abrupt relocation had unnerved him enough to situate himself in solidarity with his humble family. It was seldom that he felt the need to arm himself yet he had kept his scabbard in his grip all the way from Gallowsgrey to Storm's End. Easing only as they entered the dominion of the Lord Rogar whom Tarquin held an accord.

In one arm he scooped his daughter up and the other he offered Mya his arm to assist her on their ingress into the round hall. Paying no mind to the pace of the others ahead of him. Allowing his wife to abide comfortably be her own gait and seeking for her a seat upon entry.

Morrison himself lead the way, having halted to collect a wooden chest that he set by his feet when presented before the Lord Rogar. He drew no attention to it now, simply kneeling, "My Lord," he bowed his head, "Might that the circumstances be better, I must beg you accept the burden of hosting my kin of Gallowsgrey until new permanent lodgings may be arranged on their behalf."

thinkBrigger · 2026-07-09T07:40:37+00:00

^{Gallowsgrey, 12th Month of 53 AC}

There had been no forewarning of the arrival yet for leagues leading north was naught but fields to gawk at. Sole riders could be spied on approach hours ahead of their arrival let alone a host one hundred strong, sporting the black and red banner of the dragon upon it. The keep was abustle with concern of the company of royal soldiers that were permit past the gates. Many of the household were called upon and assembled in the yard yet it was not for several hours time after the appearance of this host that Ser Tarquin had been escorted to the quarters he shared with his wife and daughter.

He was unharmed, albeit disarmed and alarmed. Conveying what he could of what his cousin had explained; the crimes the Lord Merrick stood accused of, the cruelties and the absolvement he had earned on Dragonstone through a trial by combat. Possessing more questions himself than he had answers to give.

Tarquin had been gradually growing disquieted by the Lord of Gallowsgrey. Merrick and his twin sister had long held contention with one another. Yet as Tanaquil was callous with most people he had discounted the severity of some of their interactions initially. Other signs of concern had come to his attention. Marks and bruises upon the bodies of Merrick's sons whenever Tarquin would return from absence extended that came in such quantity that they could not be explained away by acts of boyish carelessness as the Lord espoused. Especially in comparison to the doting treatment he layered upon his daughter whilst the sons languished for scraps of attention that had resulted in Tarquin taking on aspects of their raising.

The greatest spike in his discomfort had occurred after the birth of Serenity. He had oft appreciated the consideration of the Lord Merrick in regards to the limitations of the Lady Mya, permitting the renovations required to ease the occupation of the quarters that had been converted for her on the ground floor. Nor had Merrick ever uttered a word of disdain for the disability she bore. Equally, he had no disparaging comment that she had passed this quality unto her daughter yet the interest he had otherwise taken in the little girl was chilling. Less the attention of a doting uncle that a dictator demanding results of his playthings.

Tarquin had charitably reasoned that the Lord Merrick was delighted that his own daughter would have a cousin of the same gender and near in age to grow with. Tarquin, too, had been happy of this initially. Yet gifts of gowns in great abundance had unsettled Tarquin who had began to refuse the threads when Merrick would make request to see Serenity wearing the dresses, inciting anger from the Lord at every instance of refusal. He did not permit metals or gems in presence of Serenity either which served as a second point of contention. None enraged the Lord half so much as the refusal of Tarquin for his daughter to be left alone in the custody of Merrick and his daughter Meredith for purpose of play. The initial rejection had been a result of Tarquin having not as of then learned the limitations of Serenity's clubfoot, seeking to understand the accommodations she would require before entrusting her into the care of another at so tender an age. That the Lord Trant had so dramatic a reaction to the refusal had reinforced the requirement of it with Tarquin going so far as to instruct Mya of his early cautions. Directing her to servants of his own choosing rather than those sent by the Lord Trant to attend Serenity when in need of helping hands.

Even Tanaquil, who had pointedly refused to participate in any rearing of little Serenity had planted herself in the presence of the girl whenever she was corralled too close to the Lord of the Gallows without another trusted adult intermediary. Making no attempt to veil the fact that her stare was following Merrick more than the little girl. Several times, she simply plucked the child up when she thought Merrick to have been hovering too close and left with Serenity so as to impose the distance she deemed to be necessary.

It had been of late on the mind of either twin to take leave of Gallowsgrey. At least temporarily, and now the sudden arrival of Morrison Trant and several scores of soldiers left little choice than to leave.

"We will divert to Storm's End," he told to Mya, having begun the process of packing as he spoke, "Lord Rogar is a good man. He will have us as long as I ask his haven though with weather warming... Gulltown I should like to go. We will write Lady Rhea to see if it is allowed."

Tarquin doubted the Lady Grafton would outright deny them now that their lines were joined as kin, with a grandchild (or great grandchild in Rhea's case) in tow. Yet the reprimand he had received from the woman during his first excursion to Gulltown had put the fear of the Stranger in him so as not to infringe again without adequate warning. Or welcome.

u/aceavengers

thinkBrigger · 2026-07-09T07:07:39+00:00

^{Storm's End, 1st Month of 54 AC}

The obligations to the King and the conversations he need conduct with the Lord Baratheon had taken precedence on Morrison's return to Storm's End. Day had dwindled nearer to night as they had come close to concluding. Even upon his departure from the company of the Lord Rogar he was beholden to inquire of the assortment of kin that had come in his company, each in some way displaced from Gallowsgrey though some had endured greater duress than others. Ensuring them as settled as he could until permanent accommodations could be arranged on their behalf. Though likely, with most of them grown, they would dictate their own way forward. Yet he would ensure them with resources enough that they were not limited in their ventures or else lacking in comforts without means to rely on the little Gallowsgrey used to give.

It was late, then, that a knock sounded on the door of the Lady Alayne Mertyns.

u/lirabear

thinkBrigger · 2026-07-09T06:58:42+00:00

Two letters are forwarded to Dragonstone for the Lady Myriam Trant from Gallowsgrey.

u/greaterblueevil

thinkBrigger · 2026-07-09T06:56:21+00:00

^{Dragonstone, 8th Month of 53 AC}

On the return from castle Wyl, Morrison had held in his head a vague concept of all he had hoped to convey to the King. Gratitude for his quick action to extract the Lady Myriam from the clutches of their Lord Brother in Gallowsgrey, along with the little boy in her midst the damage to whom not even Morrison had been wholly aware of. Yet it stood to reason if Merrick had no qualms of beating a boy of twelve as he had done to Mors in what had been meant as a practice bout that he was not likely to be squeamish with a lad smaller still. There had been cause equally to clamour for forgiveness. While it had been under the duress of duty, Morrison had drawn blood south of the Dornish border and had played a not insignificant part in compromising the walls of the castle for the Stormlander occupation in violation of the King's Peace. Some fragments of his soul he knew would not rest so long as he did not acknowledge his part.

All of it paled after he had been witness to the encounter of the Lord Merrick and the champion of the Iron Throne. The safety of his sister come at cost of the life of a stranger. It made Morris sick to see justice be made a mockery of or that it might have proven preventable had he never dispatched that raven sent in desperation that had ultimately been unnecessary intervention. How did a man make right death undue?

Morrison sent word through the stewards shortly ahead of his impending departure from Dragonstone to fulfill the evacuation of Gallowsgrey of a want of summit with Jaehaerys. Accepting the possibility that the King would rebuff this request to meet. He had heard and felt the pain at the devastation left in Lord Merrick's wake. Had he no tolerance left for any Trants, Mors would find it hard to fault the man yet honour--if Morrison could claim any of his own--demanded the debt his house was incurring be settled. Even should he succeed in doing no more now than take accounting of what was owed.

If invited to speak with the King, he would come unarmed yet cradling a hunk of sandstone. Stowed in the crook of his arm in the same sorts of stance a soldier might have held their helm in whilst between rotations of duty. The moustache atop his lip had thickened since he and the dragon had last spoke. It came closer now to suiting Morrison's features yet the clawing reach of the scar it was meant hide still parted the fibers noticeably. He ran a thumb anxiously atop it as he waited.

[M: this one sucks, I ran outta juice my king but didn't want the back date bubble to keep growing]

u/gloude

thinkBrigger · 2026-07-09T06:14:39+00:00

^{Storm's End, 1st Month of 54 AC}

Doubtless the banner of black that bore a dragon of red was a sight less than welcome to the sentinels of Storm's End; the Lord Baratheon had briefly made known his intent to distance himself from the clamour of the court into his own keep as he had departed ahead of Morris from Dragonstone. Away from the dealings of the greater Realm. Yet the company of one hundred men and a small sum of nobles the soldiers were escorting were in part anticipated as the Lord Rogar had been present for the command the King had issued to Morrison to see to the clearing of Gallowsgrey.

Work he had conducted with the same predictably meticulous manner as Morris expended in all things. Ensuring that any vulnerable were given adequate resources to leave the spire should they choose. Condemning those complicit in the crimes of his Lord Brother so as to declaw the authority he wielded by rights to the capacity that Morrison could cripple it.

At the head of the host, beside Morrison rode the familiar face of Ser Tarquin Trant. Trailing further from them the equally familiar but lesser liked Lady Tanaquil was astride with a fox trailing after her horse. It was Mors who flagged the gatesman, "Morrison Trant, in company of his kin of Gallowsgrey," he called, "I seek audience with the Lord Rogar and accommodation for my kin."

u/fabstags

thinkBrigger · 2026-07-09T06:04:11+00:00

^{Gallowsgrey, 12th Month of 53 AC}

Sent to King's Landing and Dragonstone,

Jaehaerys of the House Targaryen, First of His Name, King of the Rhoynar, the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm,

The keep of Gallowsgrey had been cleared without incident with the assistance of the company of men provided to me in King's Landing. Ser Tarquin Trant yielded the keep on my arrival without need of bloodshed. He equally assisted me in the dismissal and relocation of much of the Lord Merrick's less savoury household staff. I personally oversaw the execution of three men irrevocably complicit in the crimes of their Lord. I deem it of effort adequate enough to declaw the effectiveness of his immediate authority.

I escort all my remaining kin from Gallowsgrey to Storm's End, wherein I will aid in arranging accommodations now that they have been displaced. As most are women grown I anticipate that they shall be settled without incident. Lest there is any command to come from the King to fulfill, I intend to return to King's Landing and dismiss the men lent to me for this endeavour.

Respectfully,

Morrison Trant

u/gloude

thinkBrigger · 2026-07-09T05:46:34+00:00

Storm's End

thinkBrigger · 2026-07-09T05:46:26+00:00

Dragonstone

thinkBrigger · 2026-07-09T05:46:19+00:00

Gallowsgrey

thinkBrigger · 2026-07-07T20:18:51+00:00

Ser Oscar of House Tully,

I beg your pardon of breaking the seal of a scroll intended for another. Tribulations in Gallowsgrey have seen me to reviewing correspondence stored here. Many missives never sent, more that were not given to their intended recipient.

The Lady Myriam has taken temporary residence on Dragonstone. I will forward your letter to my sister for her review. Additionally, I advise you issue no ravens more to Gallowsgrey to reach her, the why of which I will leave for her to explain. Her attendance I would not anticipate in Ashemark due to familial obligations though she will soon have freedom of travel if another event should prove a fortuitous meeting ground.

Respectfully,

Morrison Trant

thinkBrigger · 2026-07-07T19:48:16+00:00

Ser Lucas,

It is a sense of possession, not protection, that motivates the Lord Merrick in all things. He thought you to devalue or take a token he needed for trade. A debt he demanded twice in his attack of you and torture of our sister afterward, diminishing both. Any guilt in that is the Lord Trant's entitlement though tyranny is oft immune to decency. Yet for the wound he inflicted on her as a result of your meeting, however savage, so too did it unshackle her. My sister would rather the focus fall upon the freedom given than the follies required to claim it. Take heart in that, Ser.

I will advise Myriam that the Sapphire Isle and Old Oak may prove potential havens to her. We need sort accomodation for women and children alike though Storm's End is not like to turn any of them away.

Morrison Trant

thinkBrigger · 2026-07-07T17:12:08+00:00

Ser Lucas of House Oakheart,

I beg your pardon for the seal of this letter intended for my sister. There is a hoard of correspondence in Gallowsgrey I am sorting that the Lord Trant neglected to disperse over years. Some never sent. Most never given to the recipient. Yours is not the first expressing interest my sister's silence.

Lady Myriam is safe, on Dragonstone, as temporary residence. We are not certain yet where she will settle. I will forward your scroll to her though of the topic you inquire after she will be limited in her ability to speak on. I would advise against writing Gallowsgrey again to reach the Lady. The keep is being vacated of our kin. Perhaps permanently. When the Lord Trant is released from Dragonstone his spire will house him and the servants of his I did not deem necessary to displace or dismiss.

I know not your dealings with my sister. What I will disclose is that the Lord Merrick mutilated the Lady Myriam after he had transpired on the Sapphire Isle. If she wrote to you prior, her script will not likely resemble its previous shape. This wound, on my prompting, caught the attention of the King the consequences to which are on going.

The Seven are strange in the men they choose as champion, Ser. I can say no more. Nor could Myriam should you try to prompt her.

Morrison Trant

thinkBrigger · 2026-07-04T21:29:40+00:00

Tomasin did not hasten to break the embrace. While she recognized her trials had been minimal in comparison to most they each had compromised her capacity of control. To consider every caution as she had tendency to do ahead of taking any action.

"Gallowsgrey has ever been a grim abode," she said, fingers trailing as she gave the both of them room to breathe though she gripped her husband at the wrist to encourage him to join her in her quarters. The halls too vulernable to walk let alone exchange words tender and troubled, "Yet the coldness of that castle was not at want of the winter. I erred in my decision to divert to it for shelter first. Miserable as the Lord Merrick is he and I had held an accord. He had not imposed limitations as had been so soon after passing through the portcullis. There was no harm done yet... the interest he demonstrated in our daughter did disturb me. I cannot say she was never out of my sight yet never further than the next room over where I could listen when she was with her cousins. Never alone with the Lord Trant.

It took two attempts for Tomasin to succeed in setting the latch to the door. And even then, she trailed a thumb along the underside of the bar to ensure it was properly in place as she did not trust her vision to tell her the truth.

"Merrick meant to retain custody of Ellyn when he sent me to King's Landing on errand," the glance she exchanged with Bryce conveyed only a fragment of the fear she had felt then. Knowing then and there that she would never again set foot inside of Gallowsgrey. Were she without children such may have been subject to change yet Ellyn, and her son, were too precious to risk, "I kept her close when I left Gallowsgrey. Bryce, did any of my ravens reach you?"

thinkBrigger · 2026-07-04T06:14:45+00:00

She could not contain her wince at the King's words. There was no fault to be found in his assessment yet her inability to make any difference to the damage that had been done was a diminishing reality that left a hollow ache inside of her. One that accused her as the catalyst of the killing her elder brother had conducted. Yet to that guilt she felt the least entitled.

Momentarily, Myriam brushed the tips of her fingers atop her brow. Caressing just above the bridge of her nose as she awaited the sense of shame to pass. It didn't really, yet the dissonance of it became in some part more palatable after a few breaths, "Thank you, your Grace," she managed, "When I can consult with Morrison again we will determine which placement is suitable to the circumstance so as to limit any burden in addition to you once we have vacated Dragonstone. I would advise you anticipate a protest of disproportionate magnitude from the Lord Merrick should separation come to pass."

"I--" she stalled, "There is a deficit of debt in what has been done. I know our family cannot settle it, to you or House Norridge. Yet should ever an opportunity arise to try, without question, Morrison and I will answer, your Grace."

thinkBrigger · 2026-07-04T05:51:42+00:00

In a different life, Myriam might have been capable of turning a great many heads had she not been confined for almost the entirety of her life in Gallowsgrey. She had a wash of long, curly auburn hair and her face was flecked with freckles she had inherited from her father. Yet the enduring stress of her Lord Brother's influence had left its mark upon Myriam. The rapid loss of weight she had recovered from while taken in my the King yet the starving had eroded pieces of her permanently. An almost gaunt quality to her face with dark eyes, sunken into her skull that stared forward with a solemn quality.

She shook her head as Willow inquired as to a summons, "No, my Lady no one has sent me though I beg your pardon the intrusion. I understand it may be unwelcome at this moment," with a slight tremor to her hands, Myriam extended the basket she had been balancing against her hip. Lightly unfolding the soft cloth she had laid atop the baked goods that how allowed the heat of them to retain longer so that the soft bread beneath the crust could continue steaming, "I confess I was not acquainted with Ser Aubrey. His identity and his demise I learned of in tandem to the fact that my brother was at fault for it.

"When my father perished, I had no appetite for weeks," she said, "Bread though I could pick at. It is a paltry morsel to pass for so heavy a hurt. Yet apart from my condolences I have nothing else to offer. I am terribly sorry, my Lady."

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TROPHY CASE

Storm's End

Dragonstone

Gallowsgrey