Elia laghed softly as they passed through the neighborhoods. She reached out occasionally to familar faces and added an extra silver or loaf of bread here and there. House Martell and House Lannister- Princess Elia, Lady Toria- should be seen and known.
She guided the guards with a few words and soon enough they were drawing nearer to one of the places the Faith had given over to an order of Septons and monks who worked at healing. "Too many of the brothers were felled during the plague," she said quietly to Toria. "They have more than they know how to care for- and there are so many children without places to go, they often wind up here."
Elia glanced to the charred ruin of a building that once had been home to several families before the night of the coronation. Rebuilding efforts ahd fallen by the wayside in the plague and now with so many resources diverted to Flea Bottom and quelling unrest... She shook her head and wished she'd chosen a gown with less embellishments. Though she knew appearances were needful, it only made her miss being able to run through the streets with a plain cloak and cotten dress. But those were the old days and they would not come again.
"Have you ever been on a Lyseni vessel?" she asked, forcing herself to less dreary thoughts.