Steffon had waited for three days after his meeting the mysterious lady, but every day passed without word from her or any of her servants. He was about to give up hope and prepare for his trip back to Westeros, when a young boy asked to see him.
The boy was a slave, but one who was well dressed and fed. Had it not been for the collar and the brands, he might just as well have been from a smaller merchant family. But he had only seen few slaves that were cared for this well. Almost all of them work for Lady Flamma in her estate.
Much to Steffon's relief, the boy carried a sealed letter addressed to him. The wax seal showed the sigils he had seen on the banners of Lady Flamma, the strange birds that the magister had called a phoenix.
The letter itself turned out to be an invitation to dinner with the lady in the evening, but it said little else. He couldn't be sure what she had decided, but it was something. He would find out what she would do, he had no doubt about that.
So when the sun had begun to set, he was once more at the gate of her estate, accompanied only by his wife. The guards let them pass without much fuss and soon enough they were greeted by the head slave of the lady.
He lead the guests to a lavishly decorated dining room, where a long table was already aching under the many different drinks, fruits and other foods that had been prepared. Several other people were already present as well, among them Magister Varghan, who spoke quietly with an old man, who was dressed in a similar fashion. If Steffon would have had to guess, he would have said that the old man was a magister as well.
The last to arrive was the lady herself, but her entrance was no less grand than the last time. Clad in a dark dress, her hair braided in intricate patterns, she exuded a feeling of royalty that Steffon had only ever seen from those of the highest birth.
"Lord Baratheon, I am glad that you have accepted my invitation. I had feared that my long hesitation might have caused you to leave," Flamma said, as she approached the lord of the Stormlands.
"I wouldn't have dreamed of it, Lady Flamma. It is a privilege to be in your presence once more," Steffon replied cordially.
"Let me introduce you to my other guests. This man is Magister Cossomo Mercor, our honored elder in the conclave," she motioned towards the old man Varghan had been talking to and the man nodded in greeting. "You have already met Magister Varghan, of course."
"It is a pleasure to met you again," Steffon greeted.
"Of that I'm sure, Lord Baratheon," Varghan replied snidely, though he obviously stopped from showing his dislike so openly, when the lady sent him a veiled glare.
"Let's move on the my other guests," she said quickly, as she guided Steffon's attention towards the two younger guests, "These are Mero and Talea, firstborn son and daughter of Magister Varghan."
Steffon watched these younger guests closely. Especially the boy and how he would often sneak glances at Flamma, whenever she wasn't looking. Some sort of childhood crush? She seemed rather oblivious to it, so he wouldn't worry about any possible trouble in the future.
"Now let us eat and drink and be merry. After that we can discuss what you have really come for," Flamma announced, as she gestured towards the table, where the servants had begun to serve the food.
So they spent the next few hours feasting on the exotic food that the lady had her servants prepare and made polite small talk about Myr and the Seven Kingdoms. There was some probing from the magister's children and some rather blunt questions from Varghan himself, though the real danger at the table was the oldest guest. His questions seemed simple enough, but they followed a pattern that Steffon recognized almost too late.
Only once everyone was satisfied, the conversation finally turned towards the topic that interested Steffon the most. He could see that even his wife was anticipating the final choice of the lady. The success of their mission now rested in the hands of this girl and though they would return to Westeros no matter the outcome here, they both dreaded King Aerys reaction, should they fail their task.
"We should stop the idle smalltalk and get to the point of this meeting," Flamma said, as she saw that all her guests were well fed and content. Her own nervousness was rising, as she knew that her next words would without a doubt change the lives of many people… for better or worse, no one would be able to tell for years to come.
"So you have considered our offer," Steffon asked.
Flamma nodded, "I have. At this moment I cannot in good conscience agree to marry this Rhaegar Targaryen."
Steffon's shoulders slumped in disappointment, as he heard this. So the answer was no and their search for a wife had failed. He looked at the magisters that sat at the table, both to Flamma's left and right. It was more than likely that these men had pressured her to decline. Of course they wouldn't allow the precious Jewel of Myr to leave.
"I understand..."
"No, you do not," Flamma interrupted, with a light laugh, "I said that I cannot agree to marry him at this moment, because I won't be bound to a man that I don't even know. Which is why I will travel to King's Landing to meet this prince of yours. Should he be worthy, I will agree, otherwise I will return to Myr."
This didn't sound too bad, Steffon thought. She was willing to consider Rhaegar at the very least. Of course the king would be displeased by this. A woman deciding whether she will marry a man or not, outside of Dorne this was not just uncommon, but even highly frowned upon. But once the king had seen this exceptional young woman, he would do anything to keep her, that much was assured.
"I understand and I would be happy to have you with us on our way back to Westeros," Steffon replied, a pleased look on his face.
But the lord of the Stormlands had to frown, when Magister Varghan suddenly chuckled darkly. "You do not possibly expect us to send her alone with you. Foolish man, Lady Flamma will be well protected and accompany an envoy of Myr that will negotiate new trade agreements with that king of yours."
Steffon's frown deepened. So those magisters took this whole jewel thing even further. Lady Flamma was their bargaining chip for more beneficial agreements with the Iron Throne. How very cunning. But why was the lady only smiling at this, when he would have expected her to be outraged by this turn of events. The man's words more or less meant that she was just like the slaves, a commodity to be traded for wealth. Something did not add up here. But he could only hope that whatever they were planning, it wouldn't affect the Seven Kingdoms in a bad way.
"So you will leave Myr with the first flood tomorrow morning," Varghan continued.
"And when does the lady intend to visit King's Landing?" Steffon asked, quite displeased with this bothersome magister.
"When ever the lady wishes to do so!"
"Magister, please. We are not here to quarrel," Lady Flamma finally interjected. Her voice was calm and collected, but Steffon could see the raging emotions in her eyes. The way she looked at him spoke of great worry, but it was soon enough replaced with determination. "I shall make preparations for my journey posthaste. It shouldn't take more than a week for me to follow you, which should give you enough time to prepare for my arrival."
"Thank you, Lady Flamma. I can assure you that all of King's Landing will wait for your arrival with great anticipation," Steffon replied cordially. "I will personally see to it that everything will be prepared and that your time in the capital will be as enjoyable as possible."
"Good. Now that this is settled, let us continue with our little celebration here," Flamma said jovially, as she raised her cup of wine, "A toast to the future, whatever it may bring!" And so they all drank, each one of them with different thoughts about the meaning of her words.
Steffon himself was just glad that this waiting game was over. He would return home, to see his sons… but first he would have to go and see King Aerys. He knew that this whole task to find a bride had not been as easy as they had hoped. In fact he had expected to fail and incur the king's wrath because of it. But now that he had actually succeeded, at least partially, he could return to the court with his head held high. If all went well, the Seven Kingdoms would soon have a new queen, one that might be just the kind of new blood that the royal family needs.