The Lady of High Tower

Demetriosa was her name.

Lady Demetriosa of High Tower was not one to be meddled with.

Rumor had it that she had poisoned her first husband. As someone whose patron god was Analthea — goddess of the underworld — one should not have been surprised by her apparent apathy. Demetriosa did not even nurse her own child — a son named Baltros — and instead gave him to a maid from the first day he needed to suckle.

Lady Gertross, a woman from Hawk’s Landing, whispered that Demetriosa was mad. She said she had dreams of Demetriosa where her golden locks had turned into snakes and her tongue was forked. When the rumors reached Demetriosa’s ears, her lips pursed with distaste.

“They think me a monster,” she told her lady-in-waiting Hetta as she brushed her lady’s long hair. “Whatever I do is not good enough for them. I am nothing but a pawn in a larger game.”

“Those of us who have been with you longest know that Lord Jandice had a bad heart,” Hetta said in soft tones as she brushed Demetriosa’s hair, “and you didn’t have the strength to nurse young Baltros when he was born. We all know, my lady. Those you can trust know the truth of the matter.”

But Demetriosa bent her head, tears coming to her eyes. “I don’t know how to make the people of High Tower happy,” she said. “I…