Chapter 207: The Lady from Lys

A month passed without anything demanding an army.

I found that increasingly suspicious.

The Wall remained quiet, with Lord Commander Bolton reporting that neither Hilvi nor Magnar had returned towards the Shadow Tower. Oscar’s letters from the Riverlands described the remnants of Marq Bracken’s band scattering rather than gathering around another leader.

Daeron continued governing Oldtown without giving the Citadel or the Faith sufficient reason to complain directly to Rhaenyra, while Vaeron had returned from the Arbor with another collection of disputes involving vineyards, harbour fees, and men who apparently believed old Redwyne privileges remained valid merely because they had been written on expensive parchment.

The most disruptive event within the Red Keep was still Gaemon discovering new reasons to cry. Siren encouraged him whenever possible.

I had almost begun trusting the peace when a ship from Lys entered Blackwater Bay. There was nothing remarkable about Lyseni ships visiting King’s Landing. Trade had recovered quickly after the war, and the harbour once again contained vessels from Braavos, Pentos, Myr, Volantis, and half a dozen smaller ports whose merchants possessed sufficient confidence to believe Westeros would not begin burning itself again before they collected payment.

This ship was different. It flew the colours of House Rogare. Tyland brought the report to us during breakfast. "A young lady of House Rogare arrived shortly after sunrise," he said. "Her household requested formal audience with Her Grace. They claim she carries a letter from Lysandro Rogare himself."

Rhaenyra looked up from her cup. "The Rogare Bank?"

"The same."

That gained my attention. House Rogare possessed more than noble blood and an attractive manse overlooking Lys. Their wealth moved through trade houses, shipping, loans, and the banking interests controlled by the family. A lord could dismiss a foreign merchant more easily than he could dismiss a family capable of financing cities.

"What does Lysandro want?" I asked.

"His people declined to tell the harbourmaster, which suggests they understand how to create anticipation."

Vaeron, who had joined us that morning, gave a quiet laugh. "Bankers normally prefer people impatient before discussing terms."

Rhaenyra set down her cup. "Then we should disappoint them by finishing breakfast."

The audience took place shortly before midday. I expected an older envoy carrying the young woman’s letter. Instead, the young woman carried it herself.

Larra Rogare entered the hall accompanied by a modest household of Lyseni retainers, two ladies, a grey-haired steward, and a translator she ultimately required less than expected. She looked close in age to Rhaegar and Aerion, perhaps fifteen or sixteen, with pale blonde hair worn loosely beneath a light veil and eyes of such clear blue that they stood out even among a court accustomed to unusual Valyrian colouring.

Her clothing was unmistakably Lyseni without becoming theatrical. Pale blue silk covered a fitted gown beneath a mantle embroidered with silver thread, while small pearls had been woven into her hair. She wore jewellery, but less than I expected from the daughter of one of Lys’s wealthiest families.

Aerion noticed all of this before I did. That became obvious almost immediately. He stood beside Rhaegar among the royal family, and while Rhaegar watched Larra with polite curiosity, Aerion possessed the expression of a young man who had suddenly discovered that foreign diplomacy might contain virtues his lessons had neglected to mention.

I glanced towards Rhaenyra. She had noticed too.

Larra approached the dais and curtsied. "Your Grace, Prince Othorion, I thank you for receiving me so soon after my arrival. My father asked that I offer his respects personally, since illness prevents him from travelling as he once might have."

Her Common Tongue carried a Lyseni accent but required no interpreter.

Rhaenyra gestured for her to rise. "We had heard that Lord Lysandro’s health had worsened. I hope the reports exaggerate his condition."

Larra’s expression remained composed, though something tightened behind it. "I wish they did. He has been confined to bed for most of this year. Some days are better than others, but his physicians no longer speak about travel."

There was no advantage in forcing further discussion of a sick father before the entire court. Rhaenyra accepted the sealed letter. Lysandro Rogare’s offer proved remarkably direct. He congratulated Rhaenyra upon the restored peace, praised the marriages of Jace and Luke, expressed interest in stronger ties between Lys and the Iron Throne, and then proposed marriage between his youngest daughter and one of Rhaenyra’s unmarried sons.

Either Rhaegar or Aerion.

Lysandro did not pretend the offer was anything other than political. Larra would bring a considerable dowry. House Rogare would expand favourable lending and commercial terms to Westerosi merchants approved by the crown, while a royal marriage would give the family prestige few banking houses in the Free Cities could purchase through coin alone.

He was effectively offering money, trade, and access in exchange for blood. That was not unusual. It was simply more honest than most marriage proposals.

Rhaenyra finished the letter before looking towards Larra. "Your father’s proposal is generous, but I would prefer to hear whether you understand what he is offering."

"I do, Your Grace. He wants me to marry one of your sons." Several courtiers shifted. Larra continued before anyone could mistake bluntness for embarrassment. "My father believes House Rogare has spent generations becoming wealthy enough that other families cannot ignore us, but wealth is not the same as blood. A marriage to your house gives Rogare something gold alone cannot give."

I liked her more after that answer. Rhaenyra apparently did as well. "And what does it give you?"

Larra paused. "A husband I have not yet met properly."

Aerion looked as though he might volunteer to correct that deficiency immediately. Rhaegar noticed his brother’s expression and briefly looked down, concealing amusement.

Larra continued. "My father has never hidden that this journey concerns marriage. I agreed to come because I would rather meet the princes myself than remain in Lys while men exchange descriptions of me across the Narrow Sea. If neither prince likes me, or I discover I cannot imagine living here, then I would prefer everyone learn that before vows are spoken."

That answer was sufficiently sensible that I began wondering how much of Lysandro’s proposal had been shaped by his daughter rather than dictated to her.

I leaned forward slightly. "Your father names both Rhaegar and Aerion. Does he favour one?"

"No, my prince. He knows their positions within the family but knows very little about the men themselves. He believes either marriage would fulfil what he wants."

"Convenient for him."

Larra smiled faintly. "My father has always appreciated having more than one profitable option."

Vaeron coughed suspiciously behind one hand. Rhaenyra allowed the audience to continue long enough to cover the formalities before releasing Larra to the apartments prepared for her household.

The moment the doors closed, Aerion looked towards us. "How long is she staying?"

Rhaegar began laughing. Aerion frowned at him. "What?"

"You could have waited until we left the hall."

"I asked a reasonable question."

"You asked it before Mother finished setting down the letter."

Rhaenyra looked towards Aerion with an expression far too familiar from years of raising sons. "Lady Larra will remain as our guest while we consider her father’s proposal. That does not mean anyone is betrothed."

"I know."

"You answered very quickly."

"I understood the first time."

Rhaegar looked towards me. "Do you believe him?"

"Not remotely."

Aerion appeared betrayed. "I have said almost nothing."

"That is why the expression is doing so much work."

Even Rhaenyra laughed at that.

The court discovered Lysandro’s purpose before supper. By evening, half the Red Keep apparently knew that House Rogare had offered Larra for one of the twins, though the details became more imaginative with every retelling.

One rumour claimed Rhaenyra had already chosen Aerion. Another insisted Rhaegar was to receive the Rogare fortune as part of some enormous naval agreement. A third managed to involve Tyland and the royal treasury despite neither having anything to do with the marriage proposal.

Lyman Beesbury heard that particular version and became irritated that imaginary financial agreements were apparently being negotiated without the Master of Coin.

We discussed the actual proposal privately that night. Rhaenyra placed Lysandro’s letter upon the table between us. "The offer is stronger than most we have received."

"It is."

"Which does not mean I want to accept it simply because House Rogare is wealthy."

"Neither do I."

A foreign marriage carried advantages but also complications. Larra brought no Westerosi bannermen, no castle inside the realm, and no domestic alliance capable of settling rivalries between great houses.

What she offered instead was influence across the Narrow Sea. Rogare money could strengthen trade, support rebuilding, and give the crown another financial relationship beyond Westerosi lenders.

There was also the obvious problem that Lysandro Rogare was bedridden. Whatever agreements he made today would eventually be inherited by someone else.

"We would need to know who controls the bank after Lysandro dies," I said. "A marriage agreement written around his promises means little if his successor decides the terms were excessive."

Rhaenyra nodded. "Larra is the youngest child. She will not inherit control herself."

"Which means we should learn how well she gets along with whoever will."

Rhaenyra glanced at me. "You are already considering the match."

"I am considering the offer. Those are different things."

"That distinction sounds familiar."

"I have been reliably informed that distinctions are important."

She smiled before becoming more serious. "What matters more is Aerion."

I knew exactly what she meant. We had spent months refusing to hurry Rhaegar or Aerion into marriages merely because the realm expected another wedding. Rejecting Larra immediately after watching Aerion struggle to stop staring at her would have been equally foolish.

"He is interested," I said.

"He is fifteen, and she is beautiful. I would be concerned if he were completely unaware of her."

"There is a substantial distance between noticing and marrying."

"Which is why she stays."

That became our answer. No acceptance. No rejection.

Larra Rogare would remain in King’s Landing for several weeks as a royal guest. During that time, she could meet both princes without every conversation being treated as a formal negotiation.

We would learn how she behaved when she was not standing before the throne, how she regarded Westerosi customs, what she understood about her father’s banking interests, and whether she possessed any desire to remain thousands of miles from Lys.

More importantly, Rhaegar and Aerion could form opinions based upon a person rather than a description sent by her father. The distinction between the twins became clear within days.

Rhaegar was courteous. Nothing more. He spoke with Larra during supper, answered her questions about Vhalalor, and once spent nearly an hour explaining the differences between Driftmark’s harbours and those around King’s Landing after she expressed genuine interest in maritime trade. He clearly liked her company well enough.

He also showed no particular desire to seek it out. When I asked him privately after the first week, he answered without hesitation. "She is intelligent and pleasant, but I do not think I want to marry her."

"Have you decided that because Aerion does?"

Rhaegar smiled. "Aerion has not said that he wants to marry her."

"He has discovered several reasons to enter whichever room she happens to occupy."

"That is not subtle."

"No."

Rhaegar considered his answer more seriously. "I would not refuse her because Aerion likes her, but I also do not feel anything beyond friendship. If you and Mother eventually decided the marriage was necessary, I would consider it because I understand what being your son means. Since you have told us there is no urgency, I would rather not pretend interest merely because her father has made a strong offer."

That was enough for me.

Aerion required considerably less investigation. He developed a sudden enthusiasm for Lys. Before Larra arrived, his knowledge of the city consisted largely of its pleasure houses, sellswords, Valyrian ancestry, and position within the Free Cities. Within ten days, he had somehow acquired questions about Lyseni shipbuilding, banking families, vineyards, trade with Volantis, and the political relationship between noble houses and merchant interests.

Vaeron found this transformation deeply entertaining. "I spent years attempting to make that boy interested in commercial law," he told me after Aerion questioned Larra for nearly half an hour about how the Rogare Bank assessed loans to merchants. "Apparently I lacked blonde hair."

"You also lack light blue eyes."

"That may have been the decisive failure."

Larra seemed equally interested in Aerion, though she concealed it better. She attended several of his training sessions, initially because Aemma invited her and later without needing the excuse. Aerion took her to see Tyraxes from a safe distance and spent considerably longer than necessary explaining dragon behaviour. Larra showed enough caution not to pretend she wanted to approach closer merely to impress him.

I appreciated that. People eager to marry dragonriders had an unfortunate tendency to treat dragons as unusually large horses. Larra did not.

During her second week, I found the two of them walking through one of the inner gardens with Rhaegar and Aemma nearby. Aerion was speaking enough for both of them, while Larra listened with a small smile that suggested she was enjoying his attempts to appear more knowledgeable than usual.

Rhaenyra joined me near the arcade. "He likes her."

"That has become difficult to dispute."

"And she likes him."

"Probably."

"You sound reluctant."

"I am cautious."

"There is a difference?"

"There should be."

Rhaenyra watched them for a moment. "We are not deciding yet."

"No. Lysandro offered a daughter, a dowry, and banking ties. Before accepting any of them, I want to know more about House Rogare than what appears in merchant reports."

"And Larra?"

"I want to know whether she likes Aerion after several weeks of seeing him behave normally rather than after several days of him attempting to impress her."

Rhaenyra’s smile widened. "That may be the harsher test."

Aerion chose that moment to say something which made Larra laugh loudly enough for us to hear across the garden. Perhaps he would survive it. For the moment, however, there would be no betrothal announcement.

Larra Rogare would remain our guest.

Rhaegar had already made his lack of romantic interest clear enough that I saw no reason to continue considering him seriously. If House Rogare joined ours through marriage, it would almost certainly be through Aerion.

Whether that happened would depend upon more than a young prince becoming smitten with a beautiful Lyseni girl.

Still, after months of refusing the realm’s attempts to choose brides for our sons, I could admit there was something amusing about Aerion finding one who had crossed the Narrow Sea and presented herself at our door.