Of Love Patient and Kind
Tenth Day of the Twelfth Month 293 AC
Sunhouse, The Reach
The more time Rhaella spent in the company of Lord Branston Cuy the more convinced she became that he was mad, quietly mad, harmlessly mad from what Glyra and her fellow urchins had been able to gather thank any gods who might be listening, but mad just the same. It was not that the man was flighty, or excitable or any other of those terms one threw around to cover the ugly truth.
The king is a great man, but he is man of ideas, of vision not dreary numbers. She shook the memory away, it had been a while since one had struck her so abruptly, but it was hard not to see the similarities... and the differences. Lord Branston trusted his wife, people talked about love matches and romance, but it was really a lot simpler. The lady with her honey blond hair bound tightly in a net of pearls and her bright summer blue eyes was the only one who could get her husband to move away from whatever the object of his most recent fascination was. She had learned to do it subtly, carefully so as not to wear away his authority any more than his escapades already did, but it was here just the same as real and to Rhaella's eyes as obvious as holding a hand on his shoulder to keep him from falling.
"Change is coming to the Seven Kingdoms," Rhaella Targaryen, once queen of the Seven Kingdoms, said while looking into Lady Cedrella's eyes, daughter and sister of landless knights, thrust into effective lordship of one of the principal Hightower vassals. "Not necessarily war, I hope that it will not be war and with each lord that pledges his banners the specter of it grows more distant."
The other woman watched her carefully, the golden light spilling through the study windows seeming to for a moment turn back the hand of time and offering a glimpse of the girl she must have been on her wedding day. It was not hard to see why people said hers had been a love match, why others whispered cruder speculation. "Branston cannot fight," she said at last, nothing but the blunt truth, the time for careful probing questions past. After a moment she started to add. "That is he has..."
"I understand," Rhaella said softly. There was a reasons she was here alone. Not that she did not trust the knights sent with her to guard her with their lives, but at the seventh and last they were still knights, sworn to uphold the strictures and oaths between vassal and lord, the same strictures Lady Cedrella had been quietly discounting in her effective undeclared regency. "He will not be asked to lead armsmen personally. I will see to it
personally with Lord Hightower."
A soft sigh escaped the Lady of Sunhouse, her posture relaxed a touch though it was still straight enough to make even the most stringent girl's etiquette teacher nod approvingly. "Thank you..." She hesitated a moment. "Is there anything... any spell that could help?"
"There is sorcery that might be able to, but it is not perfect," Rhaella explained carefully. "The mind is not a broken bone to set with a splint or torn flesh to put a poultice on. There is only so much magic can do before healing becomes molding. He would have to find his own way."
Hope brightened Lady Cedrella's features, but beneath that hope Rhaella could read fear and guess its source. Wondering if her husband would still need her, still care for her, wondering what sort of man he would be. She nodded once sharply to herself. "Please send a healer as soon as one is available, Your Grace," she said at last.
OOC: A bit of a short update but I figured it was worth showing how far Rhaella came from a potential target of Heart's Ease to one who is considering handing it out.