The sound of music and laughter came streaming from the great hall of Highgarden. The entire hall was flooded with light from a million lamps and candles. The large window-doors leading out to each balcony connected to the great hall were thrust wide open, but were covered with heavy curtains, allowing a quiet spot for those wishing for a break, a private conversation, or even a lovers’ tryst.
It was below one of these balconies that a sixteen-year-old Vikkin had taken refuge. The balconies were just a small hop above an extravagantly decorative garden, complete with a central fountain, from which flowed strategically designed rivulets of clear water. Between the artificial streams were a hundred golden rose bushes, freshly transplanted to celebrate the coming of age of House Tyrell’s youngest daughter. Ivy and climbing roses hung from the balconies, blending in well with the almost mystical feel of the garden, and it was among these that Vikkin sat by himself, too close to the balcony for any of the guests to see him unless they looked straight down.
He could hear quiet conversations above him mingling with the louder but muffled sounds coming from the hall itself, but it was comforting to feel separated from the hustle and bustle. As loyal vassals of House Tyrell, the entire Vyrwel family had attended Lady Jana’s Nameday, but this unfortunately meant that he had been forced to mediate his father and brother subtly snubbing each other all night. Not a one of them had even seemed to notice that he was feeling melancholy himself, and none too pleased to put their woes first. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath of the heady scent of the roses, leaning back on his palms. At least he had some peace in this little spot. His older brother had been too rambunctious when they had visited Highgarden as children to care much about the nooks and crannies one could hide from the world in. He let out his deep breath as a half-contented sigh.
“Vikkin?” A girl’s voice asked.
Vikkin’s eyes shot open in surprise, just in time to see Lady Jana’s head pop over the edge of the balcony to stare down at him. Her honey-brown eyes crinkled in pleasure as she caught sight of him. The coif her maids had no doubt carefully arranged was utterly ruined as she craned further, causing her soft brown hair to fall all over her face. He pushed his hands off the ground just in time to catch a butterfly-shaped hairpin as it fell from her head.
She laughed with careless joy, face flushed from a long night of good company, delightful treats, and no doubt no small portion of celebratory drink. She didn’t even seem to realize that her current position was dangerously close to revealing a bit more of her breasts than he was quite comfortable seeing. He scrambled to his feet and stretched his hand out to hand her the pin she’d dropped. She was only an arms-length away from him, and could easily grab the pin, but instead, she shook her head, and began clambering over the balcony railing herself.
She always seemed to do this. Every time he offered her the polite distance suitable for the two of them as a young lord and young lady, she closed that distance without hesitation, giving him the illusion that she wanted him closer. He took two steps back to allow her to land safely, as she bunched up her skirts and hopped down beside him.
She abandoned her shoes the moment her feet touched the grass. Taking the pin from his hand, she dropped it next to her discarded shoes. “Will you not wish me well on my sixteenth Nameday, my lord?”
He smiled at her, unable to resist the infectious drive of her joy. He had already wished her well, but he bowed anyways, “Seven blessings on you, Lady Jana. May all prosperity be with you through all your days.”
She laughed again, and reached forward to grab his hands. She was definitely drunk. “How stiff of you! If you cannot muster a proper greeting, you must at least dance with me!” She pulled him closer, startling him for a moment, but a memory sprung to his mind.
They had been six years old. He hadn’t loved her then, or at least he hadn’t known he’d loved her yet. The children had been left to themselves while the adults had moved to a sitting room to drink together. Vikkin had found himself in a garden not unlike this one, having wiggled in through a gardener’s entrance to find a good spot to nap, and found Lady Jana already there, pouting mightily.
They had been close to a window, and could hear the sound of Lady Jana’s older sister singing to the sound of a pianoforte. He’d sat himself down next to Jana, not bothering to ask for her leave. He’d been so young and foolish back then, more comfortable with the Tyrell children than he now knew he had ever had the right to be. “What’s the matter?” He’d asked.
“Sillowen gets to dance and sing and have a grand old time with everyone. Why can’t we?” She had scowled at him. “Aren’t you mad?”
He hadn’t seen any reason to be upset by being left it out. What would he want with the stuffy adults and older children? “No.” He’d said, unconcerned. After a moment’s thinking, he added, “If you want to dance and sing, we can just do it ourselves, can’t we?”
“That’s not the point.” She’d insisted, determined to remain displeased.
But Vikkin hadn’t registered her words in time, and had already grabbed her hand and dragged her to her feet. He pulled her into a nonsensical dance barely to the beat of her sister singing, and in moments she was laughing again. He remembered thinking that he’d been right, and she had just wanted to dance. The childish thought now brought a laugh to his mouth.
He forgot for a moment, that she was too close, that she wasn’t his, and that she likely saw him as nothing more than a friend. Instead of wrapping his arms around her in a proper dance, he pulled her by the hands, into the sort of dance they might have tried as shameless children who knew no better. She didn’t seem to mind, laughing and playing along with his game. A splash, and the feeling of cold water seeping into his socks startled him into stopping for a moment, but Jana twisted and intentionally launched into a little spin in the same artificial stream, loudly splashing the water with her bare feet and almost kicking water at him.
He took her hands again as she finished her spin, and pulled her out of the stream so she’d stop splashing him, but stopped suddenly, as he found her face inches from his own. She seemed to notice their closeness as well, and her laughter slowed as she reached up to grab his face in both of her hands. She stared into his eyes with a slightly intoxicated intentness that made him uncomfortable, and then quietly said, “It’s like you keep the sky in your eyes.”
He tried to think of something to say to that, but a stern voice called, “Jana.”
Jana let go of his face and whirled around, delightedly crying, “Father!”
Vikkin hadn’t realized that their little dance had pulled them into full view of the balconies, and found himself looking up at Lord Garrothan Tyrell. The man’s face was unreadable, as he helped his daughter back up onto level ground, directing a servant to retrieve her shoes and hairpin. Jana gave him not another glance, as she leaped into her father’s arms, but Vikkin felt his stomach drop as he watched her walk away, leaving him with only the memory of her laughter and the unpleasant feeling of wet clothes.