The fingers softly glided across the keyboard of the worn out piano. Although old with age, it still sounds so beautiful, as if it was newly bought. Some would say it was because of the musician, stroking the notes like a hand gently caressing a baby. Or maybe delicate hands, trailing down the face of a lover. Whatever it was, or whoever it was that was playing the worn out piano, the person knew the quirks of the old instrument and played it like it was new.<br/><br/>As the sounds from the piano resonate across the room, the only thing that seems to make a sound, the wooden door opened, quietly as it could, and a man in a suit stepped in. He wasn't old, or so his appearance says, but he has been within this family for generations, serving with all his loyalty this his master, but now, he serves a mistress. Skeptical at first, fearing her tender heart would be her demise, but he learned she wasn't just a pretty face. Behind the sweet and loving exterior, lies a monster once unleashed will destroy everything in its path.<br/><br/>"Someone has entered the building milady," says the man, whose name was Baratheon.<br/><br/>The delicate pale fingers stopped playing mid-chorus, but she didn't turn around. Baratheon knew that she was smiling, a sweet smile, like a child. "Do you think it's him?" her voice was soft, delicate, but etched with a tone that would never make one challenge her command. "Let the guards stay one floor down from this chamber. A man as such, will not be idiotic enough to take me like this."<br/><br/>Baratheon nodded and simply walked out of his mistress's chamber. Thinking, hoping, his mistress knows what she is doing. He knows, that for the past century, many had tried to take over her holding, but many had failed. However, it does not mean her decisions are always correct. There are times that she had miscalculated, and almost end up burned at a stake. But he does not fault her, because she rises up, and fight, as if she wasn't a young creature, compared to others of her rank.<br/><br/>Back in the chamber, the mistress of the keep stood from the seat by the piano and walked towards the window that faces north. The wind was warm, touching her pale skin. It was wonderful, to feel the breeze. Her tower unlike some was designed to center on the beauty of nature. Her kind cannot endure the sun, she made sure that she would, even if not underneath it. The window facing the north gave her the glimpse of color the light gives, without sacrificing her skin to burn underneath the ball of light.<br/><br/>"Such a shame," she whispered to herself, as the clogs in her mind continued to turn. Forming, creating, devising a strategy. She grew up, under her father's wing, listened, learned and understood the circumstances she could be in when her father's enemy succeeded. Succeed they did, but what they didn't know, his daughter has reached maturing age in time to take control of her father's holding. Not with ease, but the people under his care, stayed loyal, even after her father's death. However, she wasn't content, she knows deep down, they would betray if she showed weakness. No matter how loyal they are to her father, she was different. A woman. The thought made her snicker. Just because she is a woman she wasn't capable according to their old mind. They were wrong, she succeeded well, and expanded her territory enough to show she is not just a simple woman.<br/><br/>Calista was born beautiful, more beautiful than most women of her kind. Her father feared that, and from the start, he instilled in her mind the importance of trust and self-preservation. Her beauty is an asset, and also a curse. She needs to learn to always make sure it remains an asset. And she did! Calista learned to use bother her mind and her beauty to win battles. She always dresses to emphasize her natural looks. Pale skin, long black halos hung from her head that bounce in each of her step. Mouth, natural tamed red, set as plump and attracting on her face. Eyes, her eyes amazed a lot of people, it was special some would say. Her eyes turns into different color. Her natural eyes are a piercing violet, but when anger sets it, it turns into a deep black, when mirth and playfulness resume it turns into blue, and when sadness...sadness, no one knows. No one has ever seen Calista sad, only one man, and he was dead.<br/><br/>Years and years passed, she continued to protect her territory, and threats continued to grow, but she never stopped, and always stood strong. Until now, the lords conspired to take her down, but no one could take her head on. Hence, they hired an assassin to take her down instead. She wasn't stupid, that's for sure, and she knew who they would hire. She had eyes and ears all around. But she knew her status and gender wasn't the only thing that angered the other lords. No, it was her and how she runs her territory. Her number of people are growing, Lycans side with her more grew, and they fear, they would lose power. It was all about power, and she knew how to hold it. However, she has one weakness, something even Baratheon, a man she trusts her life with, does not know.<br/><br/>A noise was coming from the other side of the door, but she felt a presence she was unfamiliar with. She quickly sat on the armchair, by the window facing north. She crossed her legs, her midnight blue dress ends just below her knees. She wore her black curls into a loose ponytail, a few strands framing her face. Her lips, set in a small sweet smile, a common feature when greeting guests or people of rank. The midnight blue dress is dark in contrast to her pale skin, but it was beautiful, she was beautiful. Calista sat regal, as the door opened, revealing a man she had summoned for one purpose alone.