Who: Aeria, ? Where: Summerhall, the queen's garden When: Aug 20, noon Rating: PG Status: Open
She had used witchhazel and iced the bruises but the swelling still remained, and even the most artfully applied powder could not entirely conceal the bruises, and a faint trace of darkness lurked beneath the cosmetic. So her hair was down as well, which could be a sign of mourning. So could torn clothes, but hers were not. and neither was was she rubbed with ashes although seeing her reflection that morning she had given it serious consideration.
He had struck her- the boy she had so carefully groomed and raised to respect the rules of chivalry and deportment... the king she had raised to hide his anger and find better revenge than the thrill of a strike. He thought she had killed her own sister, the girl he loved. Aeria sank down on the edge of the fountain and put her face in her hands. It seemed a lifetime ago already that she had sat here with William Stark... she wondered if he shared his king's opinion, and wondered if that even mattered...