Ch-4

The days after I first left the hiding place were unnervingly quiet. No one came to the inn. The streets were deserted save for the occasional clank of soldiers' armor as they passed. It was a city holding its breath, unsure if the storm had truly passed.

By the fifth day, when our food and water were nearly gone, I knew I had to venture out again. The inn's kitchen and storeroom had been looted, the shelves bare and overturned. But my mother had always feared hunger; she had survived it once and had the foresight to hide provisions. In a small room she'd often used, I found a sack of wheat and a few scraps of dried meat and cheese. With these supplies, we returned to the hiding place, our tiny sanctuary amidst the ruin.

For a week, we survived on what little we had, the only signs of life being the sounds of distant soldiers. But on the eleventh day after my mother's death, the city stirred. News reached us that Robert had entered King's Landing, and the Lannisters had pulled back. Their siege was over, but for us, it had left scars that would never heal.

It was later that day when we first heard voices. A family entered the inn: a man, a woman, and two children. Harris recognized her instantly. "Aunt Amalie!" he cried, rushing toward her. Emma followed, and for a moment, they were children again, running into the arms of someone familiar. I stood back, watching as they embraced. A weight lifted off my shoulders; they were no longer my burden to bear.

Amalie's eyes found mine, but instead of warmth, I felt a chill. She looked at me not with pity but with cold indifference, as though I were an intruder in her life.

When the hugs were over, she straightened and addressed me directly. "You're Alyssa Waters' boy, aren't you?"

"Yes," I replied, my voice barely audible. "My mother's dead."

Her face hardened. "What happened here? Where are my brother and his wife?"

I told her, the words coming out slowly, deliberately. "The Lannisters killed them. We hid in the garden for eleven days. We buried them out back."

For a moment, something flickered in her eyes—something like satisfaction, quickly masked. She and her husband hurried to the backyard, where they found the fresh graves. Amalie knelt beside them, weeping for the dead while her husband stood beside her, trying to offer comfort. But even then, her tears felt hollow to me, like the wail of a banshee who cried for herself, not for the dead.

Soon after, Amalie took control of the inn. we cleaned and repaired what we could, reopening it within days. The war had thinned the streets, though, and few customers passed through. For two weeks, the inn was a shadow of its former self. And so was I.

It wasn't long before I became an unwanted presence. I overheard their whispers when they thought I wasn't listening. One night, Amalie spoke in hushed tones to her husband.

"I can take care of Harris and Emma—they're family. But that boy, Alyssa's bastard… I won't be responsible for him. He needs to go."

Her husband sounded hesitant. "He's only four. Where could we send him?"

"I hear they give two gold coins for a child like him on Silk Street," Amalie said, her voice filled with greed.

"Silk Street?" her husband whispered, his voice barely audible. "What would they do with him?"

"That's none of my concern," Amalie snapped. "At least we'd get something for him. Find out what price they'll pay."

As the words reached my ears, I knew my fate was sealed. Staying here would mean slavery or worse. That night, while the others slept, I gathered what little I had: a silver coin my mother had hidden, a small knife she'd used for cutting fabric, and a piece of bread I had stashed away.

But as I made my way to the back door, I saw Harris slip into the inn from the garden. He looked at me, eyes wide. "Where are you going?" he whispered.

"Amalie doesn't want me here. I have to leave," I said.

For a moment, he seemed like he might argue, but then his face softened with understanding. "I see," he said, surprising me with his maturity. The horror of the past weeks had changed him, hardened him.

"Take care of Emma," I said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Amalie's your blood. She won't harm you."

Just as I turned to leave, Harris hugged me suddenly, his small arms gripping me tightly. "Will I see you again?" he asked, his voice trembling.

I patted his head gently. "Of course. My mother's still sleeping here. I'll come back."

Without another word, I stepped into the alleyway behind the inn, closing the door behind me. Darkness engulfed me, vast and unwelcoming. I had never ventured beyond the inn's walls before, and now the world loomed before me, filled with dangers I couldn't yet comprehend. I walked slowly, cautiously, down the empty street, looking for a place to hide, to survive, in this city that no longer had a place for me.