The Friendship at Aegon's Garden
The fragrance of pinewood permeated Aegon's Garden, with wild roses adorning the green branches in splashes of color.
The joy and laughter here seemed to exist in isolation from the rest of the world.
Children's laughter could be heard from afar. Cole carefully calculated his age. In truth, he was only about sixteen or seventeen. He had long forgotten when his name day was.
"Under the sea, mermaids don't ride horses. I know, I know, oh oh oh." Patchface wandered through the garden, the bells on his motley hat jingling with each step.
"My father, King Robert Baratheon, is the bravest and most powerful warrior in the Seven Kingdoms. Ser Duncan the Tall couldn't defeat him at all." The sound of a childish squabble drifted from the swings in the clearing.
"Ser Duncan the Tall was very powerful." This came from a timid female voice.
"My father taught me to fight. His warhammer is invincible. I have a hammer too, a smaller one, but they wouldn't let me bring it here, otherwise I could show you." The boy spoke of the hammer with great pride. "Your Ser Duncan couldn't beat a hammer with just a sword."
"He's not mine, he's Cole's. I'll let him take care of 'Ser Duncan.'"
"Your betrothed? Oh, I know him, with the silver hair, right? He looks so handsome."
The girl lowered her head shyly.
"Cousin, my father told me that a man can't just be beautiful. Scars and the ability to hold your drink are a man's true medals."
"Cole?!" Shireen suddenly looked behind the thorn bush with surprise and saw him standing there with a smile on his face. Edric was right—he was too handsome. No, he should be described as comely.
Edric Storm turned his head stiffly and met Cole's gaze.
Cole walked over slowly. Though only two years older than Edric, he stood much taller.
Edric thought silently to himself that when he reached his sixteenth name day, he would surely be taller.
"Your Highness," Cole greeted Shireen softly.
"Are you my cousin's betrothed, Cole?" It was the first time Edric had looked at him so closely. His clothes matched those of his uncle Stannis—plain and unadorned.
"I am Edric Storm," he announced proudly. "My father is King Robert."
"Hello, Your Highness." Though the boy bore a bastard's surname, he was the king's child after all—a bastard acknowledged by Robert himself.
"We're playing 'Westeros Adventures.' It's a very interesting game." Edric pointed to the board laid out on the carpet. "This is my character, carved in my father's likeness."
It was a knight with an antlered helmet, crafted with much finer workmanship than 'Balerion the Black Dread' and 'Ser Duncan the Tall'—clearly made by a skilled craftsman.
Though Cole had never seen Robert, he had met Renly. The child before him, despite his prominent Florent ears, bore unmistakable Baratheon features.
"Will you join us?" Edric asked. He was direct and generous, much like his father.
Cole shook his head gently. He was about to return to Storm's End and had only come to look in and say a casual farewell.
"Lord Storm, might I have a word with Shireen?"
Edric looked as if suddenly realizing something. "Oh, I understand. I was intruding. My apologies, good-brother."
He hurried away, but Cole knew he was hiding behind the stone pillar, peeking at them.
"Edric, your head is showing," Shireen called out.
He jumped up like a monkey and explained, "I was just picking something up."
"He's Uncle Robert's son. Father brought him to Dragonstone," Shireen explained, once Edric had truly left.
"Yes, I saw him at Storm's End," Cole picked up the wooden knight. "You still keep this?"
Her face reddened slightly, and she lowered her head, using her clothing to cover the greyscale scars on her face. Shireen knew she was ugly and that the scars frightened others.
Girls in Westeros could be wed at three-and-ten or four-and-ten.
"You should ask a craftsman to make you a better-looking one," he said, examining the crudely carved knight.
"I promise to take good care of it for you."
Cole chuckled. The little princess before him was just a naive girl, new to the world. Perhaps she didn't truly understand what their betrothal meant.
When she grew older and began to dream of love, would she resent this arranged marriage?
His own understanding of love was shallow; he had never thought to pursue passion or romance.
Cole liked Shireen's character. She differed from most people in this world, possessing a simple innocence and kindness, despite the suffering this world had brought her.
The greyscale had clearly ravaged half her face.
"It seems 'Ser Duncan the Tall' is well cared for by our princess. I'm returning to Storm's End, so let him remain with you."
"You're going to Storm's End?"
"I must protect it for you."
"Could I come with you?" Shireen asked.
Storm's End had been given to Shireen by Stannis. Now, besides being the legitimate heir to the king, she was also the princess of Storm's End.
"There will be a chance, but not now." He slowly opened his hand to reveal a pearl necklace. "A farewell gift. I hope you like it."
Shireen thanked him and accepted the necklace.
They spoke as friends might. Cole was not a humorous man. He couldn't speak sweet words like a bard, and he thought it wrong to speak of love to a young girl. Even if asked to do so, he doubted he could utter a single word.
Instead, Cole shared stories and experiences with Shireen. She listened attentively, furrowing her brow or smiling from time to time.
"Cole, you seem different," Shireen said suddenly.
They had spent time together on Dragonstone. Then, he had been the princess's guard knight—a bodyguard and attendant in name only.
Cole touched his cheek. "Truly? It's often difficult to notice changes in oneself."
"I used to call you the silent knight." She covered her mouth and laughed softly.
Cole had indeed changed much. Somewhere along the way, he had stopped hesitating to speak and no longer felt uncomfortable in the presence of nobility.
He had become more like a man of Westeros—or perhaps more like a Westeros noble.
Time changes us silently, taking more than just our youth.
The next morning, catching the northern wind, the Myrish ship slowly departed. The king bid farewell to his future good-son, and the Hand of the King was left with the Onion Knight who always spoke frankly.
Cole had to return to Storm's End after all, and could not remain by the king's side to offer counsel.
The author apologizes for only completing one chapter today.
-----------------------------
Check out advanced chapters on : patreon.com/Veni_V