chapter 4

Father did love hosting tournaments. The excuse this time was Joffrey's fourteenth name day. As was his want, there would be generous prizes for the winners of the joust and melee. I looked forward to these events myself as I got to meet a great many knights and nobility. The joust itself was somewhat tame, it was hard to get excited about a sport you couldn't participate in. And nothing compared to flying over 300 kilometers an hour doped up on magic, facing life and death. I certainly did not miss risking my life. Absolutely not, but I could admit the adrenaline rush and the feeling of flying was an experience I greatly wished I could do again. The closet thing I had now was riding Flyta, one of the better gifts any of my family have given me.

Right now, I was attending the welcoming feast. I wish I had been sat closer to grandfather. Tywin Lannister, a formidable Lord who took his position seriously and had expertly navigated the rebellion and positioned House Lannister stronger than ever. In our past interactions he was polite but short and I would like to have a longer conversation with him.

I saw my father embarrass himself which was depressingly typical. Openly fondling the serving staff was both an insult to mother but also a violation to my modern sensibilities. One could not easily say no to the King so this was not at all consensual. What must Tywin Lannister think of his daughter's husband being so crass in the eyes of the entire court? It was fortunate the political climate was so stable or there could be trouble. Or maybe the realm had been desensitized due the last King's absolute insanity.

The tourney had some other guests I had not seen before. At one of the other tables Lord Walder Frey sat surrounded by many of his kin. It was honestly impressive that the man had survived into his 90s given the lack of modern medical care. A bit of surly fellow, technically I was kin to him by marriage. My Great Aunt Genna was married to his son Emmon Frey. Strangely enough the two had not come down from Casterly Rock to the tournament. Maybe the son did not like the father? A multitude of Walder's children, and grandchildren were competing in the lists this tournament.

I didn't have much of an opportunity to talk to anyone of note where I sat with Tommen and my cousin Shireen Baratheon. The girl was a year young than me and had been afflicted with a disease known as greyscale when she was a child that left her face scarred. She did not have the disease, it was just scarring from the disease she used to have, but that didn't cause people to be fearful of catching it. Tommen had shyly asked if I could switch seats so he didn't have to sit next to her which I had no issues with. He was young but really now, if she was contagious, did he think mother would allow her to be so close?

I tried to strike up conversation with her, she was the only child of Stannis Baratheon. Maybe if I got along well with the girl, I could get some face time with her father the Master of Ships.

"Shireen I'm so glad you were able to attend Joffrey's name day celebration. It feels like I never get to see you with you all the way in Dragonstone."

The girl looked up but didn't meet my gaze. "Father says I am safer away from the city."

I placed my hand on hers and she flinched. "Your father must love you very much to be so concerned about your safety but I do selfishly hope he relents and allows you to stay here. There aren't many girls my age that mother feels are of high enough station for me to spend time with."

"I, I would like that, Princess." She was unsure of herself, and a bit scared. Why was that? Maybe she was intimidated that I was the daughter of the King? She was the daughter of the King's brother so it shouldn't be that big of a deal.

On the other side of Shireen was a knight looking over and nodding with approval. The sigil he wore was a black ship with an onion on its sails. That would make him Ser Davos Seaworth, the once smuggler who helped resupply Storm's End. The man had lost joints on his hand as penalty for prior smuggling but had been granted knighthood and lands for saving Stannis and the garrison. This was a good trade all things considered. Going from a criminal with poor prospects to becoming part of the upper class was a brilliant upgrade.

I smile at her and suggest I meet with her on the morrow before the tourney begins and she agrees. There that was simple enough. I scanned for other newcomers. Ser Loras Tyrell, an up-and-coming jouster was present and sat next to Uncle Renly. Lord Arryn was a serious and stoic individual, though today he looked particularly grim. Strange how his eyes seem to wander to where I sat more than a few times. My appearance was impeccable and I was following all the social graces I was taught, why was he looking at me so frequently?

As the feast went from main entrée to dessert and I had my fill I escorted Tommen back to our rooms, the silent Kingsguard following behind.

***

The next morning, I ventured to the other side of the Royal Apartments in the keep to where Stannis housed his family when they were in the city. Some believed that the Kingsguard kept watch over us 24/7 and that wasn't accurate. It couldn't be given that there are only seven of them. When they could they did keep eyes on us but when the royal family was in different parts of the keep it wasn't a concern. There would always be one Kingsguard stationed outside of the King's chamber and one at the entrance of the Royal Apartments but beyond that it all depended where all the family happened to be.

A guardsmen announced me in to where Stannis, his wife Selyse and Shireen were breaking their fast.

"Good morning, Uncle Stannis."

Stannis must not be a morning person because he stared at me for a discomforting amount of time before replying. "Good morning, Myrcella."

I exchanged greetings with Selyse and then moved to Shireen ran my hand over her dress that she would be wearing to the joust. "What a beautiful dress, it shows off your house colors while still fitting in with the popular style. Who designed it?"

Shireen was caught off guard. "I'm not sure."

Selyse said, "The dress is actually a bit old, a happy coincidence that it fits the current fashion."

I felt Stannis's gaze on me. Lord Arryn yesterday and now Stannis? What was going on?

"Uncle you seem a bit different than last we met, is everything all right?"

"That remains to be seen. I have much to do today, excuse me." And with that he stiffly left the breakfast table. Selyse remained behind and asked me some questions about unimportant frivolities. I did my best to respond in ways to keep her engaged and try to also bring Shireen into the conversation but her mother didn't seem to want to include her. I believe I made a decent impression and so brought up the idea of Shireen staying in Kings Landing.

"I think not Princess Myrcella, not all in the court is as understanding as you about my daughter's shame."

"There is no shame in being the victim of illness, these things are very much not under our control, especially when we are swaddling babes."

"That matters not, a sin occurred and she was afflicted. I will not hide that fact."

Shireen seemed to shrink into herself with her mother's words. Internally I was furious.

"Sin? You believe the Seven is punishing your family? For what?" I tried to make it sound like a curiosity but some heat entered my voice.

Selyse paused. "No, not the Seven." She looked unsure of herself and then said. "Regardless we think it best that Shireen remain on Dragonstone."

And once again I had struck out. Not being able to use Shireen to get close to Stannis made this whole meeting moot. I wasn't one to give up though. As far as I know, there's no logic or reason that makes continued failure inevitable. I never give up. Mistakes simply need to be recovered from.

"If that is your decision, I will just have to make the most of Shireen's time here. Maybe we can share correspondence by raven from time to time?" Shireen nodded and mumbled something. Shireen would one day marry someone who would then inherit Dragonstone so being friends with her would still work to my benefit.

***

The first day of jousting was full of mismatches. The cream of the crop crushed the riders who were not their equal. Loras Tyrell, Jaime Lannister, and Barristan Selmy destroyed their opponents typically with just one pass. Other members of the Kingsguard did well but often it took two or three tilts to prove the victor. I could see Lord Frey spit in disgust when the last of his offspring were defeated fairly early in the day.

Shireen wasn't a great conversationalist but then again there were no knights from Dragonstone participating so perhaps she just didn't care much about the tourney. Several of the nobles also enjoyed their betting. This wasn't formalized but it was something her Uncle Tyrion did a lot of. Cersei herself would sometimes wager. Truly large sums would change hands tomorrow.

My Uncle Jaime was paired against Ser Selmy and Ser Loras was against Ser Meryn Trant. Tyrion made a large wager with Littlefinger over who would win the tournament and bet on his brother. I was tempted to throw in a few dragons out of family loyalty but I didn't have much of a reason to.

Another evening of feasting was a repeat of the first. Again, I felt the eyes of Lord Arryn and Uncle Stannis on me. While I didn't show my disquiet with it, their gazes were really starting to creep me out. This time instead of leaving when Tommen was ready, I stayed and waited for more guests to leave. When Lord Arryn went to retire and return to the Tower of the Hand I got up as well and followed. Once he left the feast hall and was in the corridor, I called out to him.

"My Lord Hand may I have a moment of your time."

He turned and looked at me in surprise. "Myrcella?"

"Is there some problem with me being friendly with Shireen?"

He seemed taken aback. "No child, why would you ask?"

"You sat with Lord Stannis and you kept looking at me. I just want to make sure I didn't do anything inappropriate."

His face was unreadable. "You have done nothing wrong and are completely blameless. My wife is with my son who was feeling poorly, if you'll excuse me."

That didn't explain anything at all! Why had he said I was completely blameless? That implied there was blame somewhere. Lord Arryn never did answer why I had drawn his eye in the first place, he had never had the slightest inclination of giving me the time of day in the past and now I was under his eye? Annoyed that I didn't have any answers I returned to my rooms. Tomorrow I would speak with mother and see if she had any insights.

***

Mother was fussing over Joffrey's clothes with a few servants when I came to her with my concern.

"Myrcella you are pretty girl who will likely grow into a woman of impressive beauty. Men will look at you and guess how soon your flowering will be. Then they will try to sell you to whatever Lord will gain them an advantage.

Shit! I had deliberately not been thinking about getting closer to puberty and marriageable age. Since I had not gone through puberty I didn't know if I would come to desire men as I desired women during my first life. Not that I ever acted on said desire with an actual woman. While I had lusts like any other and consumed JAVs in my teenage years I did not welcome personal relationships. Yes, I died a virgin.

They thinking about trying to marry me off to someone! Not good, I was far too young but of course betrothals were not marriages and they could last years. No need to panic.

"They aren't my parents, why should they get a say?"

Cersei looked at me with a pitying expression. "Don't worry sweetling, I have no intention of allowing you to be married off yet. But one day you will marry, not even I can stop that."

I swallowed heavily. Yeah, that was the purpose of daughters in a medieval society. Still, I had mother's promise that she would block whatever marriage may be in the works for me this early. Her explanation was plausible however it did not quite fit. A worry for another day.

"Mother, I was hoping to talk to grandfather while he was here. Could I join him for breakfast before he returns to Casterly Rock?"

"Probably not, however we will be going to visit Casterly Rock right after the tournament. He may have a few moments to spare with you on the journey."

I'd take what I could get. My attempts to network as a small female child were not progressing as I hoped. Tywin being the Lord Paramount of the Westerlands made him a powerful figure. His wealth, reputation and power were nearly unequaled save for my father the King and his Hand Jon Arryn. If I could get him to mentor me and look out for me, I would help secure my position in this world and from the machinations of Being X.

***

We took a stately pace to Casterly Rock. The mood was a little sour after Ser Loras had bested Uncle Jaime, Tyrion and Cersei had bet heavily on Jaime winning. The 'Knight of Flowers' did know how to ride extremely well, despite Jaime being taller and sturdier he could not win the tilt. They broke five pairs of lances but in the end the better rider won.

So much of medieval society focused on knights but it was mostly because the knights, or heavy cavalry, were so powerful on the field thanks to the bulk of the armies during times of war were conscripted peasants. A well-trained pike line or even some muddy terrain and archers would be enough to stop them as the French had learned at Agincourt.

The skills needed on the battlefield were likely quite different than was needed for these tournaments. I applauded the abilities of Ser Loras but never for a moment doubted in a real clash my uncle would slaughter him. He was wildly considered one of the most dangerous swords in the world now that Ser Selmy was getting on in years.

Warfare of my second life was not comparable to this world. Modern weaponry from guns, artillery and of course mages changed everything. Certain concepts on the battlefield were timeless. Encirclement, flanking, defeat-in-detail, and the importance of discipline. I don't envy battlefield commanders having to lead incompetent troops, what good would it be to know how to move your units into position if your commands got fumbled or the soldiers ran at the first sign of trouble. The many tactics and feints on the Eastern Front or even on the Rhine that Zettour had pulled off would simply not be possible in Westeros. I idly wonder how he would handle warfare in this primitive world.

Much of my family were within the large carriage, or wheelhouse as they called it here. Twyin and Jaime were riding and so this would be a good opportunity. Tywin had been the Hand to the old mad King and before he was dismissed when the King grew irrational, he had stewarded the realm well. In essence he was a retired CEO who was still on the Board of Directors. A priority to have in my corner for sure.

"Grandfather it is good to see you this morning."

Tywin glanced at me; his pale green eyes flecked with gold met my gaze.

"Myrcella." He spoke and then looked back down the road.

I rode beside him and waited for him to speak for a moment before pushing ahead.

"I've always admired you; I can think of no Lord more powerful and wise than you and hoped to learn how you became so successful." A little bit of flattery never hurt, all the better because it was true.

"What makes you think I care for the opinion of a child?" His voice had not changed in cadence or volume and yet it seemed to be filled with contempt. He didn't even look at me.

"I had not presumed as such but wished to convey why I was approaching grandfather. I have read the 'Lives of Four Kings' by Grand Maester Kaeth and found the lessons in it fascinating. It is good to learn from the past and yet I would argue that learning from someone face to face is superior than from texts."

"You remind me of Cersei when she was young." Excellent! I was making progress; his opinion was surely turning. Name dropping a book showcases my seriousness and scholarly attributes while placing his own perspective as superior to a famous work of history.

"Tell me child, do you also wish you had been born a boy?"

Huh? A bit flat footed I replied. "Well, yes," I was interrupted before I could continue.

"You weren't. You do not need to learn about how to rule. Pycelle writes to me about my grandchildren and he mentions your persistent pestering. You are a girl. You will not be a Maester, or a ruler. Your duty will be to marry who your family says to marry and then breed to secure the alliance."

Grand Maester Pycelle had complained about me? Was it my fault he took forever to send correspondence to the Citadel? That his own knowledge of higher order arithmetic was antiquated? I had been unfailingly polite, if persistent in my requests. And that made him try to ruin my reputation with the higher-ups?

My Uncle tried to step up, "Father I'm sure…" Twyin silenced him with a look.

Pycelle's sabotage aside, it dawned on me what was happening. I was an untrained junior in the workplace who had yet to prove themselves. I was trying to form a partnership with a senior proven executive without having paid my dues! No wonder he was contemptuous of my effort.

"I am nothing if not dutiful. Grandfather I can be more than just a chip to secure allegiances with marriage. Give me an opportunity to prove myself. You gave Tyrion an opportunity to improve the sewers and cisterns of Casterly Rock and it paid off, if you give me the opportunity to prove…"

His head whipped around and he glared. "Enough, no more of this foolishness."

Jaime gave me a pitying look. I wasn't sure what I said that drew that reaction but I somehow had stepped on a landmine.

"Very well grandfather, I will not take up anymore of your time." I was disappointed. The engrained gender roles of Westeros stymied my ability to make connections. My age didn't help matters either. Maybe I was going about this wrong. Instead of trying to make inroads with the powerful of today, should I try to focus my networking on the powerful of tomorrow?

***

Casterly Rock and Lannisport were run far better than Kings Landing. As the third largest city in the Seven Kingdoms is was a hub of trade. The wealth from the gold mines and the strong stewardship of my grandfather meant the Westerlands did not have the abject poverty amongst the lower classes that was routine for much of Kings Landing. Having more resources reduced privation. Naturally things could still be better. The archaic feudal system had people of ability and merit subservient to others simply due to stint of birth. Nepotism existed in my first life but it was far less pronounced and if you proved your loyalty to the company and did the work assigned to you diligently, you could retire and enjoy out your days worry free with all your needs met. This was rare for the small folk, even in the Westerlands.

Thankfully I was the scion of royalty and would not have that lamentable fate. I had hoped to try to form relationships with mother's side of the family. Unfortunately, by the second day a raven had reached us. Jon Arryn, the Hand of the King was deathly ill, unlikely to survive and we were to return to Kings Landing at once.

Turning right around made the trip out here a complete waste. Annoyance filled me, nothing productive at all occurred on this trip! More troubling was that Jon had been the Hand for the last sixteen years and had helped stabilizing the Seven Kingdoms during Robert's rule. Whoever filled his shoes had best be ready.

Mother hoped her husband would choose Uncle Jaime. I had never been very close to my uncle but he got along well with the rest of the family. Jaime's jests amused Tyrion and my siblings and he had an easy-going smile. I disliked his laxness as a member of the Kingsguard. He was part of the elite bodyguard unit tasked with ensuring the King and the King's family, me included, so I would have preferred if he jested less and guarded more. Laxness in small matters could quickly escalate.

Herbert Heinrich worked at an insurance company and had correctly put forth the idea that by disciplining and correcting missteps for small violations of safety you prevented larger accidents. His work, which I still remember from two lifetimes ago had so beautifully concluded with, "When a situation exists that creates loss of life, injury and suffering; when it costs a king's ransom annually, when its cure has been demonstrated to be practical; and when all are agreed that something can and should be done about it, it is time to stop talking, roll up the sleeves and go to work."

I of course shared with Uncle Jaime that he should be more focused on his duties instead and he had just tussled my hair and said I was perfectly safe. This kind of irreverent perspective of his core duties had shown his character. He would not make a good Hand. But of course, he also did everything his sister asked so likely this was mother's attempt to take an even greater role in shaping the political landscape. He just had to look imposing and regal while following her instructions and the realm would be safe and secure.

The decision would be the King's and there would be many vying for the honor. Certainly, his brothers would seek the position. He could even try to bring in a Tyrell to help further heal the wounds from the war. The Tyrells had been loyal to the mad King but once Kings Landing had been taken, they had been quick to kneel.

Mace Tyrell was the second richest Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and if he were brought into the fold, they could secure the bread basket of the Seven Kingdoms. None of these choices seemed bad in my eyes. Whoever was chosen I would attempt to ingratiate myself with any of their young kin and try to make them see me with fondness and respect. Favor with the one who was de facto ruler of the land could only help me.

***

We made it back in time to be part of the funeral ceremonies. Father was distraught and sober during the event. I paid my respects as was expected. I admired Lord Arryn for being the productive leader he had been. Sixteen years and only one war with the foolish Greyjoy's was good for a new dynasty.

Almost immediately after, the widow and the young heir to House Arryn left the capital suddenly. I regularly paid my maids and servants copper stars for gossip around the Red Keep and in the city of Kings Landing itself. They were quite scandalized as almost the entire Arryn household left in the dead of night. As much as I had been impressed with Jon Arryn's stewardship, I found his wife to be something of an embarrassment. She always seemed nervous and used powders to hide her lack of sleep. The way she mewled about her child was off putting in the rare conversation I had with her.

The King had then accounted that we were all to travel to the far North to see his friend Eddard Stark, the Lord of Winterfell. The young serving staff had all sorts of stories of the Northern 'barbarians.' Much of what they told me was superstitious silliness. They cavorted with giants, they said the Starks were skin changers and that they spent their days fighting the Wildlings up and down the Wall.

It really was silly how a house's sigil could start fanciful rumors. One of the Stark's vassals, the Umbers, had a coat of arms that depicted a giant in broken chains. Skin changers sounded like fairy tales, though given that I could do magic maybe there was some truth to old legends. It still seemed unlikely. Magical circuits creating localized phenomena did not physically alter the body and allow it to change form. The final rumor was also based in ignorance, the Starks had rallied the North on occasion to assist the Night's Watch in stopping Wildling invasions but that was rare and had not happened in my lifetime.

I suspect much of the rumors about the North had to do with differences in religion. The dominant religion in the majority of the Seven Kingdoms was the Faith of the Seven. In the North, they worshipped the Old Gods. A rather quaint religion that was ill defined and reminded me of some sort of combination of animism and ancient Celtic beliefs from my first life. It was far less stringent than the Faith of the Seven in its interference in day-to-day life. All religion was of course contemptable. Some caused less harm than others, and I viewed the North's 'Old God's' that way.

Eddard Stark did have a reputation for honor and competency. He had been fostered by Jon Arryn, though that alone meant little as so had my father and look how he turned out. Were tales of his honor true or were they influenced by good public relationship management? I didn't know but one thing was clear father was making this month or longer trek to the far North for a reason and not just a whim. The only logical assumption was to make Lord Stark Hand of the King.

Lord Stark had a healthy brood, five trueborn children ranged from 16 to 5 and one acknowledged bastard also at 16. The girls were closest to me in age, so that would be a good place to begin. If Lord Eddard Stark was to be the Hand than I would be his children's best friend.