The hour grew late as Brienne stood before the mirror in her bedchamber, trying to summon up the courage to leave the room. Although she was Lord Commander of the Kingsguard and no one expected her to look like a lady tonight, she had made the decision to dress like one for the duration of the feasting. She had told herself that she was doing it out of respect for all the visiting lords and ladies, and for Queen Sansa, but the truth was, she was doing it for Jaime.
Brienne had never felt quite comfortable in dresses, not because she didn't like them, but because men always seemed to snigger at her attempts to be feminine. She was built more like a man than half the men in Westeros, and people were often amused whenever she tried to look like a woman. But she was a woman! And she had every right to dress like one, even if it was only until the feasting was over.
Brienne had chosen a gown of sky-blue satin for the first night of the feast. The hue brought out the blue in her eyes and perfectly complimented the paleness of her skin. Even though the fabric was flowy and delicate and clung to her curves in a most captivating way, she still felt awkward, like a child playing dress-up. Her hair was short and her height rivaled that of most men, but she tried not to judge herself too harshly. It didn't matter what other people thought of her. All that mattered was Jaime.
Brienne knew that Jaime wouldn't laugh when he finally saw her dressed like a lady. Eight years earlier, he might have laughed, but not now. The only time he had ever seen her in a dress before had been back at Harrenhal. That horrible gown had done nothing for her figure, but this one had been made to Brienne's exact specifications and there was a part of her that hoped Jaime might find her just a little bit pretty in it.
A sudden knock at the door drew Brienne's attention away from the mirror, and she turned toward the sound. "Who is it?"
"Podrick, my lady."
Brienne's skin flushed with heat at the thought of anyone, even Podrick, seeing her in her new gown, but she knew she couldn't hide alone in her chamber forever. She straightened her shoulders and forced herself to pretend that she was still dressed in her armor before answering, "Come in, Pod."
The door opened, and Podrick entered the room. The moment he caught sight of Brienne, he stopped dead still, his mouth slumping open.
"Yes, what is it, Pod?" Brienne snapped, her cheeks growing even hotter.
"Um . . . I . . . um . . ."
Podrick stammered as if he'd completely forgotten how to speak, and Brienne started to fear that she was going to receive a similar reaction from every last person she met tonight. She was two seconds away from ripping the damned dress off and going to the feast in her fighting leathers.
"You know how to speak," Brienne scolded. "Pull yourself together."
Podrick gulped in a lungful of air. "Right," he said as he nodded, clearly trying to compose himself. "Lady Brienne, I have come to escort you to the feast. If you don't mind, that is."
Despite her insecurities, Brienne was moved by the gesture. Podrick was always looking out for her, always making sure that she was well and that the world treated her kindly. He was like the little brother she had never had, and she valued his friendship more than words could ever express.
The hint of a smile pulled at Brienne's lips as she looked at Podrick. "Thank you, Pod. That is very kind of you."
"May I just say, my lady, that you look quite lovely in that dress. I'm sorry about before. I wasn't expecting . . . I mean . . . I thought you would be going to the feast as Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, not as Lady Brienne."
Brienne laughed. "We are not two different people, Pod. I may be Lord Commander of the Kingsguard now, but I have always been Brienne of Tarth. And even though most people seem to forget, Brienne of Tarth is a lady."
Podrick smiled warmly at her. "I never forget. I think that's what makes you a great knight. You're kind and compassionate and the most honorable person I've ever known. And I think all of that comes from being a lady."
Brienne was touched by Podrick's assessment of her. It wasn't often that they talked like this, but when they did, he was always kind and his words never failed to surprise her.
"Well, thank you, Podrick. You may be the only person in the world who thinks so."
"Oh, I don't think that's true. Lord Jaime appreciates you for who you are. He doesn't see you as Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. He sees you as a woman. And when he sees you tonight in that dress, he may just fall at your feet and propose."
More heat rose to Brienne's cheeks, and she knew she was blushing like an idiot. "Yes, well, I'm not looking for a proposal, just a dance or two." Brienne glanced over her shoulder at the open window behind her. The sky was starting to darken, and she knew if they didn't leave soon, they would be late for the feast. She turned her attention back to Podrick. "We really should be going. I would like to be in the hall when Sansa makes her grand entrance. After all, it isn't every day that we have a foreign queen here in King's Landing."
"She's hardly that foreign," Podrick said. "The north was still part of the realm less than a year ago."
"True, but that isn't going to stop her from making an entrance befitting a queen."
"I wonder what Lord Tyrion will think."
"I can only imagine."
Podrick took a step back, pulling the door all the way open so that Brienne could pass through. "In that case, shall we, my lady?"
"Yes, thank you, Podrick." Brienne crossed the room and swept past him into the corridor, her silk skirts rustling as she moved.
Brienne's heart beat faster as Podrick closed the door behind her, sealing her off from the safety of her bedchamber. For one brief moment, Brienne was tempted to run back inside and change her clothes, but Podrick's next words stopped her.
"You look stunning," he said, his tone earnest, sincere. "And you must remember, if you enter the hall and men stare at you, it's not because they find you awkward, it's because they are stunned by your beauty."
"I don't think anyone's going to be stunned by my beauty, Podrick."
"Lord Jaime will be," Podrick said lightly, amusement in his tone. "He always is." Podrick offered Brienne his arm. "Now, may I escort you to the feast, my lady?"
Brienne stared at Podrick, suddenly struck by how odd the whole moment felt. For the first time in a long time, she truly felt like a lady, and the sensation was overwhelming. It took Brienne far longer than it should have to slip her arm around Podrick's and let him lead her to the feast.
By the time they arrived, the festivities had already begun. The hall was crowded with nobles from all across the land, lords and ladies from every great house, and Brienne's pulse quickened at the thought of being judged by so many critical eyes. But no one paid her much heed. The few glances she received were only passing looks of curiosity. There was no ridicule anywhere to be found.
Brienne and Podrick stood just inside one of the many doorways that opened up onto the hall, and she scanned the crowded room, looking for Jaime. As she searched for him, her heart fluttered with hope and fear in equal measure. Would he find her new gown attractive, or would he think it was all just a silly attempt to be something she was not?
"I don't think Lord Jaime is here yet," Podrick said, straining his neck as he surveyed the room. "Perhaps Lord Tyrion has waylaid him."
"Lord Tyrion or Lord Bronn," Brienne said offhandedly, her attention focused on the crowd.
"Did I hear someone say my name?" Bronn asked as he entered through the doorway behind them.
Brienne all but groaned. She was in no mood to face the Lord of Highgarden tonight. She feared his scrutiny even more than she feared Jaime's.
Brienne didn't have the wherewithal to answer, so Podrick answered for her. "We were just speculating about what is keeping Lord Jaime."
"Ah," Bronn said knowingly, "so the Lord Commander is finally willing to admit that she's looking forward to spending the evening—and maybe even the night—with the Master of War."
Brienne finally turned toward Bronn, giving him a dark look. "I am not admitting anything. Podrick asked where Lord Jaime was, not me. I was just answering Pod."
Bronn laughed. "No need to get all defensive, Lord Commander. I know what you're thinkin', and I know why you wore that pretty little dress tonight," he said as he swept his eyes up and down the length of her. He shrugged. "I admit, you're not quite my type, but Jaime Lannister? Fuck, he's going to be a puddle on the floor."
Brienne's cheeks blazed with embarrassment, and even though she wanted to be angry with Bronn, she couldn't quite manage it. Bronn had told her exactly what she'd wanted to hear, though she would never admit it. She wanted to believe that Jaime would melt at her feet the moment he saw her. It was a silly fantasy, but one she longed for all the same.
"I'm sure Lord Jaime will do nothing of the sort," Brienne said, trying to sound offended instead of hopeful.
Bronn laughed again. "You know what? I'm so sure that by the end of the night that blonde toff's going to end up in your bed that I'm gonna put a wager on it. I'm sure someone will take me up on the offer. And maybe, by the time the feast is over, my purse will be a little heavier."
Brienne was horrified by the idea, but before she could utter a single word, Podrick came to her defense.
"That's a dreadful thing to say," he replied. "The Lord Commander is a lady, and no one should be wagering on her virtue."
"She's already lost her virtue," Bronn snickered as he clamped a hand down on Podrick's shoulder. "Or hadn't you heard?"
Podrick turned an unflattering shade of red and averted his eyes, his gaze settling on his feet.
Brienne just glared at Bronn. "Are you done?"
"Yeah, I suppose, for now. Got better things to do tonight than make fun of you and that poncy lion. This place is filled with pretty little ladies from all over Westeros. Think I'm gonna go find myself a wife."
"A wife?" Brienne was shocked by the very idea. "Why do you need a wife? You've already got a castle, and you didn't even have to marry for it."
"Yeah, I've got a castle, but if I'm going to secure my legacy, I'll need some heirs. Legitimate ones. And I can't get those fucking whores." Bronn looked around the room as if judging all the women present. "There's a lot of possibilities here. I think I'll definitely be getting myself a wife."
Brienne rolled her eyes, and Bronn laughed again before sauntering away. Brienne felt sorry for any poor woman who unwittingly attached herself to Ser Bronn of the Blackwater. She couldn't even begin to imagine what kind of husband he would make, nor did she want to.
Brienne dragged her eyes away from Bronn's retreating form and looked at Podrick again. His cheeks were still flushed a light pink, and she could tell he wanted to be somewhere else.
"Pod, why don't you go ahead and join the festivities? I'll be fine on my own."
"Are you sure? I could always—"
Brienne held up a hand, cutting him off. "No, Pod, it's all right. You've earned a night off. You should go make the most of it."
"Thank you, my lady."
Podrick bowed his head dutifully before turning and heading off into the crowd, Brienne watching after him. As soon as he disappeared from view, she turned back to search for Jaime, her heart beating thunderously beneath her breast. It was another few minutes before she finally saw him.
Jaime entered through an open doorway at the opposite end of the hall, Tyrion by his side. He was dressed in a fine red leather tunic accented with golden lions at the collar and cuffs as was befitting the new Lord of Casterly Rock. His hair was freshly trimmed, as was the hint of stubble on his chin, and he looked more handsome than Brienne had ever seen him before. Although he carried himself with an air of noble confidence, there was a distinct uncertainty in his eyes as he searched the room. It was as if he was looking for something but feared what would happen when he found it.
Brienne's heart skipped a beat as their eyes finally met. He stared at her across the crowded hall, the air heavy between them. The look in his eyes was one of pure wonderment, and she thought she might collapse under the weight of it. Brienne tried to stay steady on her feet, but every nerve in her body was trembling, and it was all she could do to keep herself standing upright. There was desire in his eyes. There was no mistaking that. And Brienne suddenly wondered if, perhaps, Bronn was going to win that bet after all.