Steffon Baratheon was seldom surprised. He was well versed in the customs of the Westerosi nobility and that of the Free Cities, though he had not left the Stormlands since the war against the last Blackfyre pretender. But when his king, Aerys Targaryen, had sent him out to find a befitting bride for his son in the Free Cities, he had little hope that he could possible meet the man's criteria.
Volantis, Lys, Tyrosh, Pentos, but not a single girl that would be worthy of the heir of the Seven Kingdoms. He was about to return home face the wrath of his king, when he had heard the rumors about Myr's most sought after noble lady. A true Valyrian beauty, hailing from one of the oldest family's in Myr.
And now he was here, to meet this so called Jewel of Myr. A girl revered by all the people, rich and poor, slave and free. The girl that the Magisters of Myr guard most jealously. Had it not been for Magister Varghan begrudgingly agreeing to let him see her, he would have never gotten a chance to meet with Lady Flamma Peverell.
When he and his wife had arrived at the Peverell estate, it became even clearer just what kind of lady they were here to see. It was one of the biggest estates in the city of Myr, showcasing wealth and pride for everyone to see. Sitting on a hill, slightly above the rest of the city, her home did look like the summer retreat of a royal family.
And the place was certainly guarded like a fortress. He was sure that he had seen no less than three dozen guards patrolling on the streets surrounding the estate alone. Their insistence that he had to come unarmed and without his own guards only was further prove of the importance this girl had for Myr.
As they entered the estate, they saw a majestic banner flying proudly above the main building. The banner was a golden bird on a crimson field. And as the banner fluttered in the wind, it looked almost as if this bird was rising into the sky, to reach the sun itself on its way.
"That banner," Magister Varghan began, "Is the banner of Lady Flamma. Before there was only the Peverell banner, but Lady Flamma disliked it and the history behind its creation. And now… the Phoenix banner. It is Lady Flamma's very own sigil. The golden Phoenix, a depiction of a bird that has been by her side since the day she had been born," the Magister explained.
"I've never heard of such a creature. Are these birds native to your land?" Cassana, Steffon's wife, asked. She, just like her husband, looked in awe at the intricate red and gold banner.
Varghan laughed, though not to mock, as he assured quickly, "Lady Flamma is the only person who has ever managed to capture one of them. In fact, her Phoenix is the only one ever found," he explained. "But come now. I have no desire to make the lady wait. Her time is precious."
"The people of Myr seem to love her dearly," Cassana commented.
"That would be putting it mildly. Before she had been born, the Peverells had been seen with great suspicion. Old blood often follows strange traditions and rituals. Rumors of dark sacrifices were common and most people quickly left, when a Peverell made an appearance."
"But not the young lady," Cassana prodded.
Varghan laughed again, "No, not our beloved lady. Lady Flamma has grown up without the wretched influence of her family, due to her parents demise when she had been a girl of four. I've been assigned as her caretaker, ever since the conclave had taken control of her fate. Unlike the damned rest of her family, she has blossomed into a beloved figure of our city. And she did it all by herself. She knew that she could not free her family's slaves due to the suffocating influence of the magisters, but she has always treated them better than anyone else in the city. And she helps the sick and poor whenever she can, using whatever ability she has. Truth be told, a word of her would be enough and the commoners of Myr would rebel to instal her as queen of Myr. But the Magisters and powerful families desire her affection even more than the poor and unfortunate, so they do not fear her… as they most likely should."
"Why?"
"You will have to see for yourself," Varghan said, a mysterious smirk on his face and a mischievous glint in his dark eyes.
It was a very unsatisfying answer, but Steffon knew, that he would have no choice but to wait. He doubted that the Magister would be forthcoming on this topic. But what he had said so far had been quite enlightening. Now he was even more eager to see this lady with his own eyes. And from the way Cassana looked, she felt the same.
The servants inside the lady's not so humble home seemed all in a hurry, yet they never looked disorganized, as they arranged everything to accommodate their visitors.
Strangely enough, there were no guards inside the estate itself. He would have expected armed men at every entrance, yet there were none. Only servants, but they watched the visitors every movement. Were there guards hidden amongst these people or were they just exceptionally loyal and protective of their lady? They were obviously slaves, collared and branded, just like all the others in the city, but they without a doubt adore their mistress.
Soon enough the servants had brought food and drink. Various delicacies from the Free Cities and beyond and likely some of the finest wines money could buy in Myr. But Steffon was not here to feast and drink, his whole attention was focused on meeting the lady.
And his wait shouldn't be too long. Soon enough a door on the far side of the large room opened and a group of female servants entered, all dressed in fine myrish lace and silk. But these girls could not even hope to catch anyone's eyes, when their lady entered after them.
The Jewel of Myr, a well deserved name. A true Valyrian beauty, with pale blond hair, like cascades of pure silver that fell onto her shoulders and eyes like dark amethysts. King Aerys would do anything to get his hands on this girl. Her face was quite lovely to look at and though her womanly curves were not quite as prominent as for other ladies her age, she carried herself with a grace that seemed almost otherworldly. Dressed in a silvery gown of silk and myrish lace, her looks would even put Queen Rhaella to shame.
"May I introduce, Lady Flamma Peverell, last of ancient and most distinguished House Peverell," Varghan introduced, as he approached the girl. He kissed her cheeks in greeting, an almost intimate gesture that made it clear, that he was certainly close to this lady and would likely speak on her behalf, should she need a man to do the speaking for her. She did not look like she would need him for that, though.
"I greet you, Lady Flamma. I am Steffon Baratheon, Lord of Storm's End and the Stormlands, envoy of his majesty, King Aerys Targaryen…"
"I am well aware of who you are, Lord Baratheon. My dear friends have informed me of everything you have done, since you have left your ship in the harbor," Flamma replied evenly. "But I must ask you, why did you request to see me?"
"My lady, the king has sent me with one specific mission to the Free Cities. One that I had not hoped to fulfill… until I was granted the privilege to lay eyes upon you."
"You are searching for a bride for that spawn of his!" Varghan stated blatantly.
Flamma smiled at the protective streak of her pseudo uncle. He often reminded her of Sirius Black, from her first life. Though he was much… less smooth in his attempts to woo women and slightly more round than high in stature. But Varghan, just like Sirius, would die to protect her. She just hoped that he wouldn't follow Sirius example in that regard. Fortunately he was already too old to fight himself… that did not mean, though, that he wouldn't send his sons in his stead.
"Prince Rhaegar is the heir to the throne," Steffon said, as diplomatic as possible. "And as such his father wishes to find the best suitable wife for him."
"And now, the Phoenix has to be guided by the noble stag," Flamma heard Death whisper in her ear again. Of course he would start quoting that darned prophecy now of all times. "You can't run from destiny, Flamma."
"This is my home, Lord Steffon. I've been born here in Myr. It is where my family has begun… and where it will end," Flamma said, a hint of sadness in her voice. Of course she had always wished for a family of her own. But she also knew that the Peverell family would end with her. The male line was extinct and she was the last to carry this name in this world. One of the last connections she had with her first life, doomed to disappear for ever.
"I can understand your feelings, Lady Flamma. No one likes to give up their home. But please consider our offer. King Aerys would be beyond delighted to have you as his daughter in law. And there is no finer man in the Seven Kingdoms than Rhaegar Targaryen," Steffon told her with conviction.
Flamma remained silent, as she weighed her options. Death was insistent that this was the moment of truth. She would either follow the prophecy or suffer the consequences. But leaving the only home she had known in this world to marry a total stranger… this reeked of the incestuous pure blood traditions she had learned about in her first life.
"It's not like you have a choice, Flamma," Death whispered again.
"Just leave me alone," Flamma muttered, slightly louder than she had wished.
"I beg your pardon?" Steffon asked. He had heard her, but he wasn't sure what she had really meant by this.
"I..." Flamma was quite embarrassed by this and quickly turned away from her guests. Oh how she cursed Death. She had obviously made a fool out of herself. "I need time to think." She said brusquely, before she stormed out of the room.
"Did I say something wrong?" Steffon asked, still confused by the lady's sudden reaction. Just why had she left so suddenly? Was there something he should know about?
"This meeting is over, Lord Baratheon. Lady Flamma has spoken and you will wait for her answer… on your ship," Varghan said, his voice leaving no room for argument.
This meeting with Lady Flamma had certainly taken a strange turn, but Steffon would not be deterred this easily. This girl was exactly what they had been looking for. Noble birth, great influence in her home country and the blood of ancient Valyria in her veins. If he could win her over, her presence might take some great burdens of the king's mind… before it shatters even more.