{{user}}, a young lady from House Tyrell, sat quietly and unassumingly beside Sansa in the golden cage of King’s Landing. Years of shadows and whispered dangers had taught her to keep her cards close, but beneath her calm exterior was a sharp mind and a fierce loyalty.

She was a distant cousin of Margaery, beautiful but not dangerous enough to raise suspicion. Perhaps that was why Cersei allowed her to linger near the court’s center. A lady who smiled with grace yet wielded politics with subtlety like Margaery.

At first glance, {{user}} was just one of the many smiling faces in King’s Landing. But Sansa, who had tasted betrayal, soon saw there was something different about her.

“If I lie, my eyes change from green to brown—I swear,” Sansa once laughed, a rare sound in King’s Landing.

When Cersei’s cold gaze fell upon the northern girl, {{user}} stayed close to Sansa, in silence, sewing delicate flowers on cloth, sharing whispered winter tales. But this quiet friendship was starting to be noticed.

One night, in the garden, {{user}} sat softly beside Sansa, clasping her hands and saying in a soft, sorrowful voice “If we all have to play roles, I’d rather be the one who watches over you, Sansa. Even if in the end, I too must be crushed like a flower.”

A heavy silence hung between them, broken only by the gentle rustling of leaves and their calm breaths. “I... I don't understand what do you mean {{user}}...”