"I swear if I wasn't there, you'll be damn raped by now!" Her brother yelled across the throne room. Jamiela hung her head low, shame echoing across the head.

How could she be so oblivious? Of course, there'll be men driven by thirst for women. How could have that thought slip her mind? Jamiela's mind buzzed with unwanted thoughts, before Robert interrupted.

"Why were you even in the damn village? Didn't I tell you never go there alone? You could've died! Jamiela, at least show you are ashamed! You should be grateful for what I have done for you." Jamiela finally looked at her brother in the eye.

"Okay, I'm confused. Should I be ashamed, or grateful? I don't compute, brother."

The silence suddenly was astounding, and Jamiela immediately wanted to retaliate, knowing that the worst may befall at her, even if she was the lord's sister. She braced herself for another yell. An order of her punishment.

But Robert just sighed. Sighed, of all things.

"Oh, my dear sister." He looks down at the ground, his brown eyes shining with bitter anger. Jamiela immediately felt confused.

"Robert? Are you.. are you okay?"

"Yes.......... No."

Jamiela let her choose, and she decided to go walk at her brother's side, and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, still cautious. "I'm all ears, Robert." She says in concern.

"You remind me so much of Mother."

Jamiela flinched. She never knew their mother, except Robert, maybe. It was during his youth when Steffon and Cassana Baratheon's ship from Essos was destroyed by the rocks. Robert saw it with his own eyes, and the experience, no doubt, traumatized him. Jamiela didn't have much memory of their parents, since she was the last to be born, except for a blinding white smile, and chuckles.

They were now fostered by Jon Arryn. Jamiela liked the man, and looked up to him like he was their actual father, and that nothing bad happened, that their father was there, safe and sound, and very much alive. But fantasies were a lie. Jamiela learnt that the hard way this day.

"You never know how much I think of you, I care about you, Jamiela. Why won't you damn cooperate? I try to give you the best I see fit. I know I'm not the best Lord here, but don't you see? I'm struggling here. Don't make yourself another obstacle for me. I have been dealing with far too much dilemmas already."

Jamiela wanted to leave. She had so much spite against her own brother, but a sense of need rattled his voice, that Jamiela continued to listen to him talk to her.

"I wanted the best for you. For all of us. The whole of Stormlands. As Lord, I can't afford to just sit here and do nothing, as others suffer out there. Don't you see, Jamiela?"

Jamiela didn't reply, as she looked over the window. The breathtaking view was back, and it took more than willpower for Jamiela to break her stance with the lands. "I still don't get it. How were you there, alone? You say that I'm not supposed to go there alone, why you?"

Robert's cheeks flushed in embarrassment. "Er.. I went to the brothel." Oh brother.

♚•♚♢♚•♚

          The Baratheon retired to her boudoir after her small talk with Robert, but his words troubled her far more than the assault hours ago. Jamiela felt speechless, and she disliked it when she ends up like that.

Sighing, she fell down at the bed, with a thud. Jamiela instinctively reached for a title, but stopped. It wasn't going to do any good to her.

The satchel still sat at her bedside, with the now cold loaf, and the borrowed book. Jamiela knew that she wouldn't be able to go back, under her brother's orders. He was Lord here.

She sighed, and rubbed the back of her head. It still throbbed a bit, after the bandit pushed her to the rough wall. Of course, it'll hurt, Jamiela.

Her door opened in a swift swing, and Myriane was inside, wide-eyed. "My lady! Are you okay? I heard about-" Her hazel eyes softened, and closed the door quietly behind her.

"I don't understand. How can I be so naïve? Delusional of the dangers out there? I'm a burden." Jamiela buried her face in a pillow, and she felt a gentle touch tentatively on her shoulder, and Myriane's soothing voice.

"My lady, I know-"
"Cut it with the formality. It's Jamiela."

Jamiela heard her handmaiden sigh, and turned to look at her, her rosy cheeks drenched with wet tears, and Myriane just smiled at her, smiled sadly. "Okay. Jamiela."

"I know that you might be confused of the world surrounding you, but you have to understand. Jamiela, this is Westeros. There are wars brewing, and dangers lurking from any corner. The best way to prevent them is to be safe, and stay inside."

Jamiela swiped the tears from her cheeks. "How do you expect me to do that, when Robert doesn't allow me to at least go to the one place inside the castle I consider my sanctuary?" complained Jamiela, and Myriane just offered another sympathetic smile.

"Find another interest. Surely, you must like weaving, or learning how to cook." Sighing, Jamiela shook her head. "I want to read. That's all. What's so hard with not allowing me to do that? It's harmless, and I could learn numerous activities, can I not?" It was Myriane's turn to sigh, and surely, did the handmaiden.

"My lady, I was just suggesting. But you can not go around running, placing yourself in the brink of danger." Jamiela bit her lip, to avoid retorting back, and just lowered her head downwards. "...okay."

Myriane gave her a gentle clap on the shoulder, before leaving. Jamiela just sat there, not bothering to change from her peasant clothes.

It was comforting, anyways.

♚•♚♢♚•♚

Jamiela was awoken by the sudden knocking of the door, and jolted right up. "Uh, yes?" Myriane entered, her face lit up and an excited look plastered in her hazel eyes.

"My lady! Lord Robert says that he will have a visitor come over. You must change!" said the handmaiden excitedly, and she flew over the room like a weightless bird. Jamiela rubbed the sleep from her eyes. "Mm.. okay."

Myriane turned to Jamiela. "You must not say anything embarrassing in front him. Act lady-like," Myriane straightened Jamiela's back with a gentle shove. "And maintain a good posture." Jamiela looked at the raven haired handmaiden, incredulously.

"Gods, you will be dazzling! One might even ask for your hand in marriage. Ahh.." Myriane fawned, as Jamiela attempted to go back to sleep, but her handmaiden hoist her up from the bed. "Tut-tut, you better get dressed."

Jamiela stared at Myriane Seryn, who was busy arranging what she was going to wear today. "Don't mind me asking, but- who is going to visit the Stormlands?" Her handmaiden turned her head towards Jamiela's path.

"Lord Rickard Stark, Warden of the North, along with his three sons, Brandon, Eddard, and Benjen, and one daughter, Lyanna." Just like her and the Baratheon family. Except they had their legitimate father alive and well.

"Surely, you can make acquaintances with the Stark children. I've heard that Lady Lyanna is bears very pretty looks, indeed, my lady. Try to talk with her. They will be arriving by nightfall. Hopefully by then, the cook will be done."

Jamiela abruptly remembered her encounter with the castle's cook, and wanted to open her mouth to tell Myriane. She longed to want him out, but decided to keep it to herself for now.

"Now, my lady. Would you mind if I give you a scented bath?" Jamiela looked at Myriane, confused. "But it's already afternoon. I've had my bath already." says the Baratheon.

"Well, we cannot afford to have the village stink rub off your demeanor, can we?" Jamiela can't help but chuckle. That was true.

♚•♚♢♚•♚

"Steady, my lady. I'm almost finished." Jamiela nervously bunched up a good part of her skirt and gripped it tightly. Myriane tightly braided two good chunks of her hair at the sides, pinning them behind with a golden stag clip, allowing the remaining tresses to flow like cascading waterfalls down Jamiela's back.

"That'll look magnificent. You'll have boys heads-over-heels over you in no time!" Jamiela rolled her eyes playfully, and smiled. "Myriane, I'm not finding a suitor. All I want is to meet them, that's all. Possibly find a good friend I can send ravens to and receive from."

"Who you'll soon fall for! Who are you eying, Brandon, the courageous and eldest boy? Or Eddard? I heard that he was also a silent boy. Not unless, it is Benjen, the youngest one! Ah, the possibilities, my lady. House Baratheon would definitely want House Stark for an alliance. Two strong houses together."

Jamiela shrugged. "Most probably, Robert would be a pighead and go marry Lyanna. He's a total womanizer." She heard Myriane gasp beside her. "What? It's true."

Shaking her head in dismay, Myriane said. "You mustn't say anything embarrassing later, haven't I told you, my lady? Lord Robert would not enjoy that as much as you do."

"Who cares what my brother thinks?" Before her handmaiden could reply, the sound of a bell echoed across the castle. Myriane immediately shot up. "They're arriving. Come now, my lady. Robert would want you there immediately." Jamiela nods, and follows her raven-haired handmaiden down the stairs.

Servants were busy adorning the banquet hall, as Jamiela stood there, gawking at the sheer beauty of this once-empty hall. Some were bringing in barrels of ale, as they darted around the room. "My lady, come on."

Jamiela allowed herself to be ushered by Myriane, and broke her stance with the hall, as her eyes landed on her brothers. Renly, her favorite brother, by far, gave her a wink. "You look wonderful, my sister." He mockingly knelt down, letting a few giggles escape from Jamiela's mouth. Myriane didn't like it, as she further ushered her away from Renly, and Jamiela finally saw Robert, who was adorned with coarse leather, and fur boots.

"Jamiela. I expect you to be at your best behavior. Please." He says, and Jon Arryn was at his side at once. "My Lord." He bowed to Robert, and he turned to Jamiela. "Lady Jamiela, a good afternoon." She gave him a curtsy. "To you, too... Sir."

Jon chuckled. "Stick with Jon. It sounds more pleasant." Jamiela nodded in embarrassment. "Yes, of course.. Jon." It erupted another chuckle from the Arryn, and Robert held his hand up. "They are arriving."

Silhouettes were made out, as Stark bannermen came forward. The horses reared when a seemingly tall man arrived the castle grounds. At once, everyone took a bow. Tentatively, Jamiela followed their gesture. Only Robert remained on his feet.

"Lord Rickard. A pleasure." He gave a knelt bow, and the man- Lord Rickard, did the same. "Lord Robert. The pleasure is all mine."

Four more horses came from the back, and Jamiela saw three men and a woman. A woman riding a horse? Jamiela suddenly wanted to introduce herself to her at once, but willed herself to focus. Not yet. You'll have your time later. Focus on the present.

"And who is this?" Jamiela looked up to see Lord Richard gesturing at her. Robert opened his mouth to speak for her, but Jamiela stood and curtsied. "Lady Jamiela Baratheon, it is.. nice to meet you." Giggles were heard from the back, and Jamiela knew she made a small mistake. "Er.. by that, a pleasure to be at your service... Sir." Robert looked at her with an indescribable expression, and audible laughter erupted from the crowd. Gods above, why?

"It is Lord, Lady Jamiela, and the pleasure is all mine." He smiled sympathetically and turned away. She turned to Robert, who flashed a smile, but Jamiela saw a flash of murderous rage present in his eyes.

"Renly Baratheon. My brother, Stannis Baratheon." Her other brothers knelt down in respect for Lord Rickard Stark, and he bowed.

"I believe that you are exhausted. Myriane, Heanyra, please escort our guests to their quarters." Her raven-haired handmaiden and a young blonde bombshell came into Jamiela's view, and they curtsied. "This way, please."

The crowd scattered, and as Jamiela turned to leave, she felt an iron grip clamped her arm, and whirled to see Robert's angry eyes. "You've  embarrassed me once. I'm not delighted to forgive for a second." hissed Robert, before releasing and turning to entertain.

Jamiela sighed, and brushed the fallen strand of hair away from her forehead, before heading for her quarters with a heavy heart.

Little she knew that someone silent nearby was watching her movements, before following the handmaidens.