Chapter 61
LAENA TARGARYEN
Over the years, Laena had begun to miss the hustle and bustle of a populace city. Her father's campaign in the Stepstones had sucked out the joy and bustle out of their own home, and so when she had come to the capital, Laena had enjoyed seeing the buzzing and bustling city.
Despite the advent of war, kingslanding was hardly affected by it. One could even say that the war made the city more joyous, as every other moon the people would rejoice at the victory of their prince. Unlike her own father's war, Prince Aegon was swift and ruthless, breaking down the pirates that had brought their House to its knees in but a few moons, as the Crown showed its might.
It was a somber affair for House Velaryon, yet she held little remorse over it all, given what those wretched pirates had taken from her. And so, she had little qualms about celebrating the Crown's victories against those ghastly mongrels.
Her mother joined her rarely, coming out only for a few feasts. However, her father had retired to High Tide, having locked himself in the castle. Laenor was still recovering, though even he was looking forward to the Grand Tourney that was being arranged in the capital.
The years of war had been gruesome for him, and it was good for him to get back a semblance of normalcy in his life.
The tourney was to be arranged in honor of Prince Daeron's birth. Though, more than a couple of moons had passed since then. The history of stillbirths had cautioned the Prince, who had decreed that no celebration for a child of his shall be held until the passing of at least two moons after his birth.
And so, despite the King's insistence, the Princess had kept to her husband's words, and only after the passing of the second month had the Crown announced the date for the celebrations.
The City swelled with joy at those words, for Kingslanding was in love with the city. The crowds doubled, and the city swelled with tourists, knights, playwrights, bards, and so forth as they rejoiced at the birth of a Prince, and yet all that joy had been sucked out of the air.
It was all quiet now.
The city. The castle. The people. All of it.
For once more, the celebrations of the birth of a Prince were marred with death. Death of a person who was known to many as the jewel of the Bloody Prince, Lady Jeyne Arryn.
There were many rumors about her, some raunchier and troubling, yet in the end, they all held the same truth. Lady Jeyne Arryn was one of the closest friends of the beloved Prince Aegon Targaryen.
And now she was gone. Killed, shielding the newborn child of the Prince from the treacherous assassins sent after him by the cruel wretches of the Triarchy.
And the world was quiet.
"I do not like this," her mother began as she sipped her wine, as they all mourned the death of Lady Jeyne, and though she did not know her much. She had heard only kind things about her.
"What?" she asked as her mother looked into her eyes.
"This silence," she replied coldly, adding after a few seconds.
"It reeks of death," and of course, it would reek of death.
"No wonder. It is caused by it after all," she answered, yet to her surprise, she shook her head.
"No, you do not understand," she said, putting down the wine glass. She straightened herself in her chair as Laena frowned at those words.
"No. Not the death we saw. No, this reeks of a slaughter. A senseless and bloody slaughter," and there was a glint in those eyes as she said those words, as her face contorted as if remembering a painful memory.
Yes, it is just like that time. The time when we heard of my own father's death," and she had only heard it mention him once, though she had read about it in her lessons with the Maester.
On how an arrow had pierced through his armor, felling the beloved Prince in battle. And most importantly, the slaughter that had come afterward.
"I remember seeing the Kings face when he heard the news, the silence that came afterwards. None here can say that Jaehaerys was a King prone to rage, and yet when they told him of his eldest's demise, his rage was so cold that no peasant dared to appear in his court, for they feared his eyes," and she did not know that.
"They feared his eyes. Feared that they could be burnt by them," and they all knew what had happened afterward.
"Jaeherys then burnt their entire fleet to the ground, and many say that the seas were dyed red for days after the battle," though he had not been alone.
"Do you think Aegon would do the same?" Yet there was no fleet to burn. He had done that already.
Though there were cities. Three of them, and she wondered what would satiate the rage of the Bloody Prince.
"No," her mother's words shocked her for a second until she continued.
"I fear he will do something much worse," and that was not the answer she had expected.
"The only question is how?" and that was true.
When my grandsire burned down the Triarchy's fleet, he had several dragon riders at his disposal. Aegon, on the other hand, has but a few," and that was troubling.
"Do you think he will ask us for aide?" for they were the only House apart from House Velaryons who had dragons.
"He will not have it. Not as long as your father lives...."
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VISERYS TARGARYEN
Viserys had begun to think his reign was cursed. Cursed with trials and tribulations that tested him and all those around him. It was as if the Crown invited misery itself. First it had come for him, swallowing him and his wife, and now it had come for his heir Aegon.
A week had passed since the attack, and since then, the whole castle had been drowned in sorrow and anticipation. The attack had brought them the reality of war, that no matter how successful one maybe, anything could happen in a war.
All of them mourned the loss of the beloved Lady Jeyne Arryn, who had put herself between those assassins and Aegon's youngest child, shielding the babe with her own body. They had not been able to question the men who had done this heinous deed, for before any of their men could reach the bastards, the crowd had descended upon them and had torn them all to pieces.
It was a sight unlike anything he had ever seen, and even now, according to the reports, men gathered at the gates, offering up themselves as soldiers and levies to help the Crown exact its revenge.
Other, more tempered voices came to him as well, speaking of peace. They warned about the dangers of war and its impacts, as he found himself struck between a mountain and a cliff.
Aegon had been quiet, and despite his return, he had only been sighted a few times, as his own daughter mourned the loss of her dearest cousin.
Though, that was not the only loss mourned in the castle, as the enemy had supposedly struck at another place, as his loyal Hand lost his second son to another heinous attack.
In the end, he was in need of council. And thank the Seven, there was an old friend to provide just that.
"I must apologize for summoning you this late into the night," he began, as the servants wheeled in his former hand and friend, Otto, who shook his head.
"There is no need for that, your grace. I am your servant and shall come whenever you have any need of me," and his tongue was as sweet as ever, and he hoped his mind was just as sharp.
Night had come, and his room was now lit with fires and lamps which illuminated it from all sides as he sat hunched over an ancient tome that described the freehold and its architecture in detail.
Otto's eyes gleamed over the stone model, his little hobby, which had grown to encompass nearly half his room over the years, as his former hand and friend raised his brows.
"It continues to amaze me every time I see it," and it was rare to find someone who appreciated the craft and dedication.
"I have done nothing. This is but the work of the masons," he said, glancing at the model of Valyria with its forty towers and giant manses.
"Yet you have directed them masterfully," and he had. He had spent hours pouring over texts, measuring proportions, directing, modifying, and often rebuilding many sections over the years.
And though it was a bit shameful, he had little qualms, saying that it was hard work—all of it.
"Still, I have not called you here to discuss my little hobby," and Otto was smart enough to know that as the man nodded.
"I feared as much," he said with a sigh as the servants wheeled them to a table and brought them their wines and fruits.
"The assassination of Lady Jeyne was a tragic affair and has stilled the entire continent," he began and the man nodded.
"Indeed, it was a tragic affair. But if not for her bravery, the Crown would have suffered an even greater loss," and yes, that was true. For if she had not jumped forward, the arrows would have hit Daeron and Rhaenyra.
"Yet, many now whisper in my ears that it was a tragedy that could have been avoided," and Otto was silent at that, clearly thinking of an appropriate answer.
"Perhaps," and he agreed with this minority as Viserys sighed and rubbed his head.
"Now, the lords both of this continent and the lands beyond the Narrow Sea fear a Great War between the Seven Kingdoms and the Triarchy." He had received around two dozen missives from Magisters and Princes from across the Narrow Sea, all of them showing their worry about the rising tensions between the Seven Kingdoms and the Triarchy.
"Many have offered themselves as intermediaries to stem these tensions, some even arguing that they would make sure that the Triarchy pays proper reparations for this heinous attack," and yet accepting them was not easy.
"Those are sound suggestions, but the Triarchy has overstepped. They have targeted the Crown, and they must pay for that," and indeed they must. But Aegon was filled with rage, and he knew better than most what the Targaryens were capable of in their rage.
He had seen it in his grandsire when the bastards had slain his eldest son or when the commoners had struck at his Master of Coin.
"And they will, but perhaps this way we can avoid a greater conflict," and Otto nodded.
"Yes, and it is a noble thought, your grace. The Triarchy have committed a grave sin, yet loathed as I to say it, they were forced to resort to such a thing only because of the horror they say for themselves in the future," and that was true.
Aegon had made little effort to hide what he planned to do to them, and it had forced them to resort to this.
"But now they have sinned," and it made peace near impossible.
"And Prince Aegon's affection for the Lady of the Vale is no secret. He will have little interest in peace, and if we must have any chance at such an outc...." yet before his old friend could say anymore, the doors to his room swung.
"I thought I told you that no one is all..." Viserys's head snapped in their direction as he halted, his tongue frozen in shock at the sight of who had come into his room.
"Rhaenyra..." he gasped, a mix of joy and worry on his face as he saw his daughter walk into his room. Her face had become thin and pale, with worry and pain as she gave but a small glance to Otto before focusing on him.
"What brings you here?" he asked as she refused to say anything.
"I am afraid I must speak to you in private," she began, making him frown.
"What is it?" he asked, growing a bit worried at her expression.
"It is a very sensitive topic, one that cannot be spoken of in the presence of others," and she refused to budge as Otto gave in.
"Then I must take my leave, your grace," the man began, and Rhaenyra's eyes glinted. He gave the man a nod.
"You have my gratitude for lending me your ear," he said, and the man shook his head.
"I am your to command, your grace," and with that, he turned towards his daughter.
"Princess," and the servants wheeled him away, and as the doors shut, she finally opened her mouth once again.
"It seems to me you have forgotten what that rat did," and he sighed.
"He has changed," and she scoffed at his words.
"No, he has not," he said, hoping and praying that this was not why she had come to talk to him about.
"Is this why you disturbed me?" he asked with some annoyance. Yet her expression turned grave as she shook her head.
"No. It is not," and she walked forward and plopped down in one of the chairs.
"Leave us," she commanded, and his servants followed her words as his anticipation grew. The maids and the servants all left, leaving them alone as she looked into his eyes.
"What happened?" he asked.
"There is something that you must know about the attack during the tourney. Something that must be kept a secret by all means," and he had feared as much.
"The attack. It was not all as simple as it appeared. There was a secret hand orchestrating it all," and that was a surprise.
"Who?" he asked, and her fists balled in rage as she bit into her lip before she gave him an answer that he had not expected.
"Bravos...."
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