＊𝕸̲𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐒.

⠀ *̲⠀⠀𝓽here⠀⠀will⠀⠀come a⠀⠀𝐩͟𝐨͟𝐞͟𝐭⠀⠀whose⠀⠀𝒘𝒆𝒂𝒑𝒐𝒏⠀⠀is⠀⠀his⠀⠀word. he⠀⠀will⠀⠀𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐲⠀⠀you⠀⠀with⠀⠀his⠀⠀𝓉͟𝑜͟𝓃͟𝑔͟𝓊͟𝑒͟. ︎ ︎

ᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠ 𝙱𝙴𝚃𝚆𝙴𝙴𝙽 𝙳𝙰𝚁𝙺 𝚂𝚃𝙴𝙼𝚂 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙵𝙾𝚁𝙴𝚂𝚃 𝙶𝙻𝙾𝚆𝚂, 𝙸 𝙷𝙴𝙰𝚁 𝙰 𝙽𝙾𝙸𝚂𝙴 𝙾𝙵 𝙷𝚈𝙼𝙽𝚂. ᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠ

in the middle of the night ?

ᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠ ——— 𝓥en, Tarys. Hace tiempo que no juegas con tu primo. ᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠ

⠀ buenas tardes, su majestad. ⠀

what a peaceful morrow without the vexing sound of children .

ᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠ 𝓝o me puedo desquitar con Ser Duncan. Tampoco con la sirvienta. Y encima Valarr parece haber sido tragado por Rocadragón. Os toca pagar a todos, es lo que hay. ᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠ

glancing up at the 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 as they enter her bedchamber . surely it has to be 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭 .

it leaves her with the most peculiar feeling for aftertaste: the radical memory of tolerating her own company. she can’t recall anything like it.

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐦. 𝐃𝐢𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐝?

do not worry , i will find one .

What in the world are my cousins arguing about now?

i can marry outside of my family .

i would be married off to a handsome prince and living out my dream life .

i am far better in every comparison . you mistake yourself for your brother i fear .

no thanks , you’re on your last life anyways .