A Feast

Grayson woke up few days later by the sound of a chirping, followed with faint wood pecks. Groggily he sat up and stretched his muscles, wiping the sleepiness away as he flexed. At the corner of his eyes, he saw something small and black lingered outside his window. When he decided to open it, the thing dashed right in and landed at the center of his wrinkled bed linen. A smile wrinkled on Grayson's face. Sat there Ser Yellowshite and that meant he was to read a friend from far away.

A knock on his door occurred immediately. "Grayson! Grayson, are you awake?" Outside was Wina. "Grayson, I saw a pigeon flying in you room. Who is it? Is it Sandor?"

"Maybe . But don't come in yet. I'm not wearing decent – Oy!"

The door was wide open and Grayson immediately jumped himself back into the blanket, causing the bird to flutter to his cabinet. Wina saw stared at Grayson, before finally blushed. "I'm sorry, I just want to read the letter."

"Not by barging in! I just woke up and I need to change first," Grayson rolled his eyes. "You can read Sandor's letter later after I'm properly dressed."

"Yes, I'm sorry. I was just too eager. I thought Sandor wouldn't want to write back. It has been weeks since we last wrote to him." she went. "What do you think Sandor wrote to us? I wonder if he was very surprised—"

"Wina?"

"Y-yes?"

"Now is the perfect time for you to get out of my room," Grayson groaned, causing the little girl's face reddened even more. She quickly bolted to the door.

Apparently Wina was really eager to read the parchment because the moment Grayson grabbed the handle of his door, she already opened it for him.

"So, what did Sandor say?" Wina asked as she entered the room. "Can I read the letter now, Grayson?"

"No." Grayson said rather coarsely and moved to grabbed Ser Yellowshite. "Not yet. Let me read it first. Go sit."

"Oh, alright," Wina nodded. "Can I read it with you?"

"No."

"Can you read it for me?"

"No. Can you not bother me?"

"Right, yes." Wina took a brief moment to watch Grayson who was still reading the letter carefully. She frowned, but consequently flopped down on his bed, waiting. His brother would tell her, eventually. So no point of arguing. Instead, she found herself folding his blanket and smoothened his bed sheet.

"My friend. I know that you will right back to me, but I always felt giddy when I saw Ser Yellow arrived on my window," Grayson read. "So that you have been asked, I am doing well in here. And to be honest, bored. As you know my day always starts with helping father and ends with helping mother. I tried to have an entertainment of my own. I build a bow and some arrows myself, crafted it from an old oakwood that grew up near the keep. I practice with it, remembering our times during the tourney of Harrenhal. Until this day, I still bad at it."

"I went to the market the other day with my father. I heard that the Lord and Lady Tyrells of Highgarden are holding a feast of their second child. I wonder if you and Wina would be going to the event. I assume you would, as the sworn sword family of the Tyrells."

"You told me that Wina had been sick for days—"

"Sandor knew I was sick?" Winona cut him of his reading. "Did you tell him? And what did he say about it? About me?"

"Well, I was getting to that before you roughly interrupt me." Grayson rolled his eyes as she quickly muttered an apology and reasoned about her excitement. He continued. "How is she doing now? I hope she would get better. You should ask the maester to make a drink for that. My mother has a recipe; a mix of crushed red ginger, cinnamon, lemon, a pinch of black pepper, and some honey, up to simmer. I always drink that if I got a fever. You should try, that works on me."

Grayson paused. "That's it."

"The letter is done? Can I read now?"

"Apart from the regards and prays for both of us that I didn't mention, that's all," he stood as Wina took the vacant spot. "Here, read."

"You know, he writes better than you. And neater," she examined the paper, with less creases and ink scribbling, and not a single word was scratched. "You should reply with the same manner, Grayson. I have seen your writings. Its sloppy."

"A letter is a letter, even when it is torn to pieces," Grayson sneered. "Besides, what do you know about writing?"

She shrugged. "I really thought Sandor wouldn't like the idea of writing letters. But here we are, sending one at a time. It was a good thing you met him during the tourney or else this wouldn't have happened," she slightly turned to Grayson who was already sitting casually on the bed. "Sandor is a good friend, isn't he Grayson?"

"Do you fancy him, sister?"

"N-no. He is just a friend. A caring friend," she pressed. "I should try this recipe. He has the measurement of every ingredient, too," Winona answered without even looking. Her eyes glued strong to the letter. "Which you failed to mention that he has ingredients measurement attached."

"Well, it is a good thing that you always re-read the letters. You have better eyes than me anyway."

"True, I have bluer eyes," Wina heard Grayson laughed loud and abruptly, and abruptly smiled herself. "Stop it. It isn't that funny."

"Oh, but it is, you sweet little pumpkin," Grayson got up, not Ser Yellow already nesting on his bowled palm. "Get father to check the recipe first, before send it to maester."

"Of course," Wina bobbed her head before concentrating more on writing and counting numbers.

The Reach was always well-known for its mass amount of greenland surrounding the area. And Highgarden was always known for its elegant white castle with man-made garden, yards and yards wide, circling the castle itself like a cloak, or thorns protecting the roses inside.

This would be Wina's third visit to Highgarden, but the first for a festivity. Clearly the environment was different. The main courtyard was so very decorated with banners, flags, and bouquet of white lilies. Wina had white lilies constructed on her hair, complementing the red of her braid. It was a custom for the children of the feast to wear white lilies, to show innocence and purity. And so of the parent; representing the Snapdragon's strength and pride, and Carnation's grace and affections.

Among the colorful flowers, set some carved tables and chairs, and a crib. Within seconds the door of the castle would be opened and out the newly born Lady of Highgarden. Just so, several young squires marched to the huge oak door, signaling that the great family would be appearing to the banquet.

Grayson was one of the young men, looking so strong and gallant with his leathery suit. He was only a boy of ten, yet, he looked so mature. And with a short sword on attached on his side, he looked so ready... so ready to fight. But Wina was not.

Nevertheless of what she felt, the Tyrells came out from its keep. Lord Mace walking along with Loras and Lady Alerie held the fussing babe in her arms.

It was funny; such a big banquet for such a quick entrance. After a quick announcement by Lord Mace, the guests were to be seated and enjoyed the meal.

"Pardon me Lord Hornscout," Wina heard a squire approach their family table. "On behalf of the Tyrell I am to welcome you to enjoy the feast. I would also invite you to come forth to the Royal Table. I am afraid that Lord Mace awaits you and your family, eager so to greet you, My Lord."

"Of course. We will be right away," Uncle Frank nodded and then leaned in to the squire. "Do you really need to be this stiff, Grayson?"

"Professionalism is utterly important My Lord Uncle." Grayson bowed, only to steal a plate of chicken leaving Wina gawking at him in disbelieve.

"That's mine, Grayson!"

"Come on, leave the poor girl alone, son!" Father commented, while ushering him to go back to the Tyrells.

"Oh by Gods! Look at your son, Byronn. Such a proud, he is," Uncle Frank roared in laughter. "He is such a good boy."

"He really took this squire job a little too serious, which I don't mind at all." Lord Byronn grinned just as excited. "I guess, we have been blessed with good-blood running in the sons of Hornscout."

That received an obvious huff from the little girl of eight. Byronn shook his head, smiling. He reached to caress her cheek lovingly, "and daughter as well."

Lond Frank then stood up. "Anyhow, we should present to the Tyrell. Tell me Wina, did you prepare the gift for the babe?"

That instantly brought joy to her as she showed him the box wrapped in a soft suede. "I hope she likes it, Uncle."

"I believe she will, but we will find out soon enough."

By the time Wina stood only few feet away from the baby, she became nervous. Grayson, who was tagging along calmed her one more time, before finally she was being introduced.

"Lady Alerie, Lady Olenna, I hope it is presentable to share a couple of humble gifts for Lady Margery," Lord Frank began, mentioning the things the family had prepared. A silk blanket, a goblet, and a necklace. The necklace was hard to beat, Wina thought suddenly, watching the Lady Alerie and Lady Olenna admiring the handwork.

"One more thing, my lady. Our daughter here, insisted on making a special present for Lady Margery. Day and night, she made it herself."

"Of course. One more present wouldn't hurt. Come here, child," Lady Olenna waved her to come. "What's your name?"

"Winona, My Lady."

"Beautiful name for a beautiful young lily," Lady Olenna caressed the blushed cheek caringly. "Give me your hand Winona, if you don't mind."

Wina was quite taken aback when her hand was immediately reached by Lady Margery, as she curled her fingers around her pinky. There was a moment where Lady Margery tried to chew on her pinky, and she couldn't help but to laugh. "That tickled."

"I think she likes you, dear Winona. And I bet she would like the gift that you have made," Lady Alerie smiled. "Show us, my dear."

"It is only a fabricated wool brooch," Wina, gaining a slight confident, began unwrapping the box and showed then the accessories. "I hope it is pretty enough."

"The fact that you made it yourself, it is beyond words, my dear. And I suppose this is Craspedia?"

"Yes, My Lady. I modeled it and added several beadings to compliment the color," Wina then added. "A-and it is wearable even for the baby. I have removed the pin, and instead I use clip mechanism. So, Lady Margery wouldn't get hurt if she touches it."

"I have never seen anything like this before. This is unique. And you made it," Lady Olenna asked. "How old are you again, dear?"

"Eight."

"Such a talent for such a young age—oh look, dear. Margery is already reaching for it. She loves it and most definitely couldn't wait to wear this."

"Thank you, My Lady."

...

Although the feast was over within hours from the start, the noble family ought to stay for other nights under the leaves of the roses.

During one afternoon, Winona was requested to attend a small walk around the garden, along with other daughters of the noble houses. Septa Irma said it was important for the women of the family to gather around, sharing stories and hobbies. There would be times while the men marched to the battlefield arm-in-arm, the women intertwined hands to one another and pray for them to come home safely to their houses.

"Thank you my dear for introducing us to your family. Now, now, who else would like to share about your heritage?" Septa Irma looked across the chairs of so many young flowers. Her eyes took interest in one of them. "You… I see the fiery hair of Beesbury. But blue eyes are not theirs. Tell me, my dear."

She placed her sewing kit on the table and stood up. "My name is Winona of House Hornscout. My father is Lord Byronn Hornscout. He wedded Lady Lilia Beesbury."

"Ah the Hornscout, it is. The blue eyes," Septa Irma began. "Unlike most sworn houses who commands the battlefield with their military advances, The Hornscout rises their strength under the shadows, creeping beneath the vines, lurking between the branches of trees. Unlike House Tarly who breeds brute soldiers, The Hornscout raises theirs to be an assassin. Tell us, young Winona, who was the founder of House Hornscout?"

"Lord Graysen Hornscout, the right-hand man of Lord Harlen Tyrell," after receiving a nod from Septa, she continued. "Graysen Hornscout was only a sellsword when Lord Harlen acknowledge his skill. After numerous of times helping with battles, Graysen Hornscout was titled as a lord, and therefore gained a place of nobility."

"Correct. Although House Hornscout live humbly, they are not a family to mess with. Up to this day, we could see their skill and chivalry anywhere," Septa Irma nodded. "Family sigil, my dear?"

"A bow wielding three arrows on a red shield."

The septa nodded and held out a finger. "Vigorous, by means of stability in both action and reaction. Poise; stands for the amount of composure and control in body and mind. And lastly, could you tell me Wina?"

"Preservation. We stand to our ground, tall and strong."

"Preservation; their loyalty is not to be questioned. Three arrows," the older woman said, now with three fingers held out. "These are three attribute that shape and sharpen the Hornscouts to the warrior they are now."