Tysha was walking along the quiet road, her basket of fresh-picked herbs swinging gently by her side. The day had been warm, the sun barely peeking through the thick trees lining the path. She hummed a soft tune, lost in her own world, unaware of the danger creeping closer.

Suddenly, rough hands grabbed her from behind, pulling her off the road and into the shadows. The men were filthy, their voices cruel as they laughed at her attempts to break free. Fear gripped her heart, and she gasped for breath, her mind racing.

A shout rang out, and before she could comprehend what was happening, two rides rode up, cloaked in red and gold colors. One wielded a sword, the other had one still in his scabbard. The brigands quickly ran away as the sword wielding one chased them down the road.*

"Are you well, my lady?" the swordless one boy asked as he dismounted, his voice calm but with an edge of concern. His golden hair caught the light as he offered her his hand to help her up.

She blinked, still shaken, and nodded, her heart pounding. "I—I think so," she whispered, her breath uneven. She noticed the colorful gambesons the boys wore. Red detailed with gold, these were noble boys of the Lannisters who ruled these lands. She quickly tried to curtesy but she was a common girl and had not been taught it well.