Wendy stood on the wooden platform as complete strangers poked her with pins and needles here and there; telling her to stop moving and squirming like a small child. Her complexion was paler than usual from the upright fear that had made itself a permanent resident in her gut. She was to marry the Prince a fortnight tonight, be his everything and help him rule over the Seven Kingdoms. Anyone else would be happy to be in her position, but Wendy detested the Prince. Prince Kovu was possibly the most obnoxious boy she had ever set her eyes on. Wendy stared down at the crest upon her breast – that of a proud wolf, something her father had given her before disappearing with the late King. Why he had decided she marry the King’s only son she did not know. Sansa seemed perfectly up for it, although the red haired girl was only thirteen.
While Wendy stood before her own reflection, she couldn’t help but wonder what her brothers were doing back in Winterfell and how Bran was doing. After his fall, the fall she had seen from the bushes while hunting, had been a large one, and she couldn’t help but yearn to be by his side. Yet, she still did not know what had startled her smaller brother so much to cause him to fall. He had climbed so much without a single stumble that it was bizarre to Wendy that this time he had fallen from such a great height. A nagging feeling crept up on her, causing her to feel sick. Her mother had never told her to trust a Lannister, but now she was to marry Queen Lannister’s only son, she would have legal, as well as blood ties to the family once the prince demanded an heir.
If the Prince thought Wendy would be easy on him, he would have to think again. Unlike her younger, naive sisters, Wendy had been taught in swordsmanship, as well as the bow and arrow. Her father wanted her well prepared in case of an invasion. She was the oldest of the three girls, and he saw it as her job to protect Sansa and Arya when he couldn’t. She had inherited her feisty natured from her mother, as well as most of her looks. Wendy was brought out of her thoughts by one of the many esquires practically yelling at her to get off the podium and get changed. She blinked a few times before she corresponded to the woman’s words. Pushing her hair behind her ear, she stepped off the platform, throwing her arms up in the air with a small groan as another women pulled off the garment, leaving Wendy to cross her arms over her bare chest as she waddled from the room.
Wendy found her hunting clothes sprawled across the bed she was sleeping in with Arya. The pair had to share a bed since the room they were staying in only had two beds – one for Sansa and one for the other Stark girls. A soft smile curled onto her lips as she pulled her comfy brown legging on, followed by a simple black short sleeved shirt. She let her dark hair fall by her face as she strapped her quiver to her back, letting her bow accompany it. In no less than ten minutes, Wendy was on her way outside into the blaring sun, letting it beam down on her. For a moment, Wendy let herself just bathe in the sunlight, letting it warm her skin. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back. Now was the time she allowed her thoughts to let herself out.
Without thinking about the noise annoying the young Prince or any of the royal family, Wendy let out a loud scream, allowing her frustration to leave her. Even Wendy knew that letting the anger and frustration build up would not be good for her, nor would it be good for the ‘King’ if he made a wrong move. Before she was able to step off the courtyard where her screams and negative energy lingered, she heard footsteps behind her. Without a second thought, Wendy grabbed her bow and loaded it with an arrow. The movement was swift and flawless, and she was facing her victim in a matter of second, “Kovu” she spoke, not lowering her aim from between his eyes.