A Game of Thrones 4-Book Bundle

home than when she was away, according to rumor. “Soon or late you must meet Myranda Royce,” Petyr had warned her. “When you do, be careful. She likes to play the merry fool, but underneath she’s shrewder than her father. Guard your tongue around her.”
    I will,
she thought,
but I did not know I’d need to start so soon.
“Robert will be pleased.” He liked Myranda Royce. “You must excuse me, ser. I need to finish packing.” Alone, she climbed the steps back to her room for one last time. The windows had been sealed and shuttered, the furnishings covered. A few of her things had already been removed, the rest stored away. All of Lady Lysa’s silks and samites were to be left behind. Her sheerest linens and plushest velvets, the rich embroidery and fine Myrish lace; all would remain. Down below, Alayne must dress modestly, as befit a girl of modest birth.
It makes no matter,
she told herself.
I dared not wear the best clothes even here.
    Gretchel had stripped the bed and laid out the rest of her clothing. Alayne was already wearing woolen hose beneath her skirts, over a double layer of smallclothes. Now she donned a lambswool overtunic and a hooded fur cloak, fastening it with an enameled mockingbird that had been a gift from Petyr. There was a scarf as well, and a pair of leather gloves lined with fur to match her riding boots. When she’d donned it all, she felt as fat and furry as a bear cub.
I will be glad of it on the mountain,
she had to remind herself. She took one last look at her room before she left.
I was safe here,
she thought,
but down below . . .
    When Alayne returned to the winch room, she found Mya Stone waiting impatiently with Lothor Brune and Mord.
She must have come up in the bucket to see what was taking us so long.
Slim and sinewy, Mya looked as tough as the old riding leathers she wore beneath her silvery ringmail shirt. Her hair was black as a raven’s wing, so short and shaggy that Alayne suspected that she cut it with a dagger. Mya’s eyes were her best feature, big and blue.
She could be pretty, if she would dress up like a girl.
Alayne found herself wondering whether Ser Lothor liked her best in her iron and leather, or dreamed of her gowned in lace and silk. Mya liked to say that her father had been a goat and her mother an owl, but Alayne had gotten the true story from Maddy.
Yes,
she thought, looking at her now,
those are his eyes, and she has his hair too, the thick black hair he shared with Renly.
    â€œWhere is he?” the bastard girl demanded.
    â€œHis lordship is being bathed and dressed.”
    â€œHe needs to make some haste. It’s getting colder, can’t you feel it? We need to get below Snow before the sun goes down.”
    â€œHow bad is the wind?” Alayne asked her.
    â€œIt could be worse . . . and will be, after dark.” Mya pushed a lock of hair from her eyes. “If he bathes much longer, we’ll be trapped up here all winter with nothing to eat except each other.”
    Alayne did not know what to say to that. Thankfully, she was spared by the arrival of Robert Arryn. The little lord wore sky-blue velvet, a chain of gold and sapphires, and a white bearskin cloak. His squires each held an end, to keep the cloak from dragging on the floor. Maester Colemon accompanied them, in a threadbare grey cloak lined with squirrel fur. Gretchel and Maddy were not far behind.
    When he felt the cold wind on his face, Robert quailed, but Terrance and Gyles were behind him, so he could not flee. “My lord,” said Mya, “will you ride down with me?”
    Too brusque,
Alayne thought.
She should have greeted him with a smile, told him how strong and brave he looks.
    â€œI want Alayne,” Lord Robert said. “I’ll only go with her.”
    â€œThe bucket can hold all three of us.”
    â€œI just want Alayne. You smell all stinky, like a mule.”
    â€œAs you wish.” Mya’s face showed no emotion.
    Some of the winch chains were fixed to wicker baskets, others to stout oaken buckets. The largest of those was taller than Alayne, with iron bands girding its dark brown staves. Even so, her heart was in her throat as she took Robert’s hand and helped him in. Once the hatch was closed behind them, the wood surrounded them on all sides. Only the top was open.
It is best that way,
she told herself,
we can’t look down.
Below them was only Sky and sky. Six