Plush crimson chairs huddled around a large oak table, the lacquer on it creating a most annoying glare when combined with the large chandelier that hung from the ceiling. Dark browns created the room and pictures of kings and queens hung perfectly on the wall, the room so pristine it hurt in her humble opinion. She stood just in front of the table, one of the large chairs pressing to her stomach as her fingers played along the soft fabric, a tune on her tongue and yet her mind was a million miles away. To remain positive she might have to consider herself tucked in the midst of a fairytale that she had the opportunity to wake from eventually.

The truth was far from her grasp at the moment and being alone in such a seemingly comfortable room to everyone but her would be her undoing if someone didn't explain a little better why she'd been plucked from her life. Being needed by the crown was for men and beautiful young women. She was neither and felt that a bag of tricks had been offered to her in return for a quick visit that would take only a brief interlude in the middle of an otherwise ordinary life with seemingly no purpose nor plans to give it one. She shifted from one foot to the other, the soft velvet slippers comfortable and homely, but fitting well with her black slacks and soft white cotton blouse. Her shoulder length brick red hair was down and loose around her shoulders, no jewelry or make-up on her skin as she couldn't afford such things nor would she have used them if she could.

She was a farmers daughter and although she quite appeared to belong to a rougher crew most people were quite uneducated about the depths of character that were established upon working with ones hands and have sweat equity be the only pay one might receive at times. The crown had paid a handsome sum to her father when they'd come for her and she wasn't yet granted the reasoning behind any of this, but she had an inkling of what might have caused this moments to occur. 

She had a gift, or rather a curse as she might state it. Septa could feel the air shift just before someone moved almost as if a premonition of sorts and yet it wasn't seeing the future at all, but feeling it. Having her eyes closed in a dark room she'd challenged her older brother to come at her time and time again, the game taking up many a night in their earlier years and her defeating his advances each time. She was not skilled well in hand-to-hand combat or capable of sneaking up on him, but the game was always the same - he was unable to contemplate a move toward her that she was not three steps ahead.

She was jerked from her reverie by the door to the large study opening, an elderly gentleman in a black suit and tie looking rather distinguished smiling and nodding at her. "Miss Vasnie, if you would be so kind as to follow me. I will have someone explain better, madam, why you are here and what this visit is all about." 

She moved not, but simply placed her hands on her perfect hips, her head tilting ever so slightly to the right as she studied him. "I'm going no where until someone tells me why the hell I'm here. Is it customary for the King to pay a sum of money for a free person as if they were a slave?"

He choked a little, unsure to such vulgar young women and truly unsure of how to respond to her. He stood there dumbfounded for a moment until one of the palace guards stuck his head in the room. "He's only going to ask you once more and then I'll be forced to move you out of this room in any means I find necessary. Stop fucking around and follow him or you and I will tango, young lady."

She snorted and laughed indecisively. "Fuck you."

The guard started to move toward the room and the older man held up his hand, shaking his head as his cheeks flushed, "Oh for heaven's sake. We do not need fighting in the main house and the two of you need to watch your mouths. I swear people your age have no respect for..." 

She held up her hand and moved around the table, squinting as if in pain. "Stop... I'll follow if you just stop lecturing. I cannot stand to be berated for being a part of a generation or my age." She stopped in front of the old man and looked him square in the eye. "I cannot help when I was born and if you were in my position you'd act no differently. The crown is rude and unwilling to communicate. I am a woman... not an object."

The guard laughed crassly. "You are an object and if you don't shut your pretty little mo.."

They were all interrupted as Lord Jeremiah moved from the shadows and held his stare on the girl. "That will be enough." 

She stopped talking as the air moved around her, a warning of sorts that the man in front of her held power unlike anything she'd seen before and simply because of that - she wanted to wait in anticipation of his next move. The older man turned and waved his hand, Jeremiah excusing the butler and looking back to Septa. "Follow me and you will have your answers, child."

She watched him turn before moving after him, her left hand giving the guard something to remember her by in ways of signs and symbols. A smile touched her face until the Lord before her whispered, "That is not becoming of a lady to act in such a manner, Septa."

"I am who I am," she whispered back as they moved down the hall, the door to the left leading down into the belly of the castle with only candle light to show the way. He made no other comments, the very ether around them beckoning their silence and they both responded with the appropriate offering. She stopped just behind him at the bottom of the stone cast stairs, his voice soft as he spoke. 

"Lord Isaac, the girl." He turned his body as Septa moved past him and looked into the eyes of the older man, something in his gaze giving her unearned respect and making her wish she were a better person. The bowed slightly, took her hand and just simply held it. His voice was deep and resounded with experience and a life lived in leadership. 

"Darius, come and meet your apprentice."