Wylis went with it and entertained Robert until he was too drunk. Then at some point, the King stood up at his table and gained everyone's silent attention. Nobody feared the King, but they feared his madness.
Then, surprising many but not Wylis, the King admitted Jaime Lannister into the order of the Kingsguard. A purely political move, keeping the beloved son of Tywin Lannister as his hostage. Of course, Jaime being a fool accepted it excitedly, considering it an honor.
After that, the King sent Jaime to the Red Keep right away to guard the Queen. Even when Jaime requested to take part in the tourney.
Soon enough, the feast began, and then Prince Rhaegar sang a song. Wylis had to agree, the fucker had a face and voice most women would drool for. Even Lyanna's eyes were full of tears by the end. Benjen teased her and received a nice, cold goblet of wine on his head.
[Singing Mastery - 1 Year]
Wylis checked out the shop out of envy. But he didn't buy it. One year of his life just for singing was a waste. Maybe someday when he'd accumulated more lifespan with trueborns and bastards.
Then came the dance. The lords and ladies moved around, asking each other for a dance. Eddard eyed Ashara Dayne from a distance. So did many others. Even Lyanna was busy dancing with men she found decent.
Wylis stood at the side for a while, his status too low to ask anyone for a dance. All the women there were daughters, mothers, or wives of knights and lords. First, his height scared most women. And even if a woman did accept his invitation, their brothers, fathers, husbands, or sons would feel insulted.
While other squires could do it since they were already sons of lords, he had no great lineage.
So, he focused on fulfilling his daily protein intake to keep his muscles as fine as they were. He avoided wine and ate meat, the ones with the least grease, at least. He asked for milk too and the servants were happy to help, too scared of his ire.
Since I'm so close to King's Landing already, let's pay it a visit after the tourney.
He plotted his next steps while munching. Over the past four years, he'd strengthened his base. The people of Winterfell and Winter Town loved him. Now was the time to solidify his future.
"Ehm… Ser? May I have a dance with you?"
Fuck!
With a big bite of juicy chicken in his throat, he gulped it down quickly to seem presentable. But in turn, it only got stuck in his throat. Quickly, he drank some milk and wiped his mouth.
When he finally looked behind, he froze, then a frown formed on his face, and then a confused expression. He looked left and right, he was sitting alone.
Me? But why?
"My Lady?" He greeted her and stood up confidently, towering over her frame. Well, at that point he towered over all but one man.
She smiled, so beautifully that it finally hit Wylis why everyone was after her. She was young, probably the same age as him if not a year or two older. Beautiful, absolutely, taller than Lyanna, and fair in flesh. Her eyes were hauntingly violet in color, but she was no Targaryen. Her long dark hair tumbled around her shoulders that were bare in that gown. Her lips were plump red, her nose perfect, and she smelled of something nice.
"I'm no Ser, my Lady." Wylis was quick to act the part. If not in status, he hoped to seem noble in action.
"Not for long, I'm sure," she replied, shifting a quick glance towards the table where only the King and Elia remained seated. A glance that didn't go unnoticed by Wylis.
Then, she shifted to stand right beside him, her shoulder touching the upper part of his sidearm. She quickly wrapped her slender arm around his. "I'm Ashara Dayne of Starfall."
"Wylis of Winterfell, my Lady," Wylis replied and went to the dance floor with her.
Elia sent her? She's smarter than I guessed. But it's futile, the Prince has gone senile. Wylis entertained Ashara, perhaps the most desired beauty of the night. He felt countless eyes stare daggers at his back. He was sure many would try to seriously injure him in the tourney for this slight.
Maybe that's what Elia wants. To see how good I am in battle.
Wylis knew it, from the day he sensed his great height and prowess, that he'd be only ever seen as a tool by nobles. Be it Starks or Lannisters, or the Crown itself. In their eyes, he was just another Gregor Clegane.
I won't be anyone's dog but…Wylis glanced at the table, at Elia. She was smiling and looking at him. It is a dog-eat-dog world.
On the dance floor, Wylis placed a hand on the side of Ashara's slim waist. She was an arousing woman in every way. From her face to her body, she had curves, she was tall, and her mounds were noticeable even in that gown.
He looked down at her face as she glanced back up at him. They began moving with the rhythm. She tried to guide him but he already knew how to dance, a surprise to her.
"Your eyes, my Lady—make the stars look plain." He complimented her.
Ashara giggled, and when she smiled it felt as if her eyes smiled too. She shifted closer to him at that, her ample chest gently touching him below his chest. "Thank you. I've heard compliments before but never delivered so eloquently. I wasn't aware that Wylis of Winterfell possessed such poetic charm."
She's trying to charm me? What's the point?
He treated it just like any other dance. Under so many eyes, he dared not play around or feel her body beyond the side of her waist.
After a while, Ashara stopped moving and looked at Elia, who'd gotten up from her seat. "Thank you for the dance, Wylis. Her Grace and I shall be watching you closely tomorrow. It's rare to witness a warrior in his ascent—may the Warrior favor you."
Wylis watched her walk away, her hips not that noticeable in the gown, but he knew they'd be a sight to behold.
"Ehm… dance?"
He looked towards the front, holding back his chuckle at Lyanna's annoyed face. Quickly, he clasped her hand on one side and placed his other on her tight waist. Ashara may be many things, but she was no Lyanna, the only woman he felt comfortable with.
Her waist, he held tightly, sinking his large fingers into her flesh. She looked like a rabbit dancing with a wolf, but the smile on her face was telling. No other dance partner in that hall had earned that from the she-wolf.
"Enjoying yourself? Pretty ladies throwing themselves at you," Lyanna asked, teasing was her intent but the tone came out as frustration.
"Oh? What's this? Is that jealousy?"
"Hmph!" She scoffed, matching his steps. She wanted to be more relaxed and dance closer to his body but the event didn't allow it. "She's not worth half of me. Can she swing a sword? Can she race a horse?"
"That's why you're my favorite, aren't you?" Wylis teased her back. It was rare to earn such moments. Besides, she looked stunning that night. "Still, I'd prefer to see you wield a more… intimate sword right now."
Lyanna smirked, squeezing her hand against his chest while keeping it all normal and formal to other people's eyes. "Is that what you want?"
In a low voice, he replied, "Would love to tear that dress apart and have you right here and now."
"Too bad… it's expensive. So no tearing."
"..."
Wait? Does that mean?
So suddenly, Lyanna had the upper hand. Her sultry eyes hinted at the event beyond that dance. "The usual four knocks."
"Very well, my Lady," he said and stopped dancing as too many men stood in line to dance with her. Including Rhaegar Targaryen.
Mindful that no other lady there wished to dance with him, he went over to Brandon who was busy drinking with Robert.
"Ah! Have a drink, Wylis. Listen to his fucker! I think he's shagged half of Vale." Brandon called for Wylis.
"I've eaten. I'm off to the tents outside to prepare our armor for tomorrow." Wylis excused himself. And it was true. He was Brandon's squire and it was his duty to prepare Brandon's armor for the melee.
Also, it was an excuse to have an alibi so he could spend time with Lyanna later.
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