"Has it occurred to you that we could get in a lot of trouble for this?" Daenerys questioned, keeping her voice low. "You might have had the foresight necessary to avoid such a situation." Her next moved was to stare at Jon, might be in hopes he would come to her aid. The unfortunate Jon Waters who had not, at any point, been prepared to intervene between the two found himself helplessly floundering, his search for words coming up unsuccessful. "Jon!"
"You might have exerted yourself a bit, Aeg. You knew discovery might land the both of you in hot water." In truth it might have been smarter to deny any knowledge of such letters, but given his poor brother had somehow managed to work both himself and his paramour in quite the frenzy over proof of their illicit, to say the least, liaison, they could only aid him by making the letters disappear. Even when that meant rifling through the personal belongings of others.
His aunt, by that point shaking her head in muted exasperation, moved past the spindly-legged table and pushed Aegon away. "Let me do it." She knelt, tugging a small key from around her throat. Despite fitting it to the lock, it proved a fruitless endeavour to turn it about. "What? This was supposed to open any lock."
Jon stepped closer to the two of them. "Any ordinary lock." His aunt had once told him, quite seriously, that she wished he'd not gifted her such a key as she was opening too many hearts at a time. He rather thought ironic that the one heart she wished to open remained firmly closed. "I could try."
"They key doesn't fit," Daenerys insisted.
"I never said I'd use the key." Aegon looked up at him, but Jon motioned for Daenerys to give him some space before pulling out his trusted knife. "If doesn't truly matter how we get the letters back, does it?" His brother hesitated before he offered a shy nod. He almost snorted. "Do not worry, Aeg; I can afford a little trouble."
Wasting not a moment longer, Jon applied all his skill to smashing the pommel of his weapon to the defenceless lock. Fortunately for all of them, the High Septon had always been long drawn in his sermons, which afforded him with enough time to break the impediment to his success and avoid being caught doing it.
Once the contents of the coffer were bared, he pulled back. Aegon reached out for the first letter, but Daenerys stopped him. "Don't be a fool, take all of them. I can return the rest when there is time."
"But she will know then." Their aunt sighed. Then she glared. "Fine. I'll take them all."
"I knew you still had some wits left. Jon, try closing that as best you can."
"Not much I can do." He still replaced the lid. Tugging up the look he glanced upon the crevice causing so much trouble. If only he had the time to figure out what manner of lock it had been.
"Aegon, my dearest, most beloved, darling brother," Rhaenys spoke, her voice thick with annoyance and possibly smouldering fury, "there are scads of unwedded women," she pushed away a sealed letter, "why, I insist to know, must you consort with the wedded ones?"
"Maidens are boring. If I as much as sneeze their way, I'm faced with fathers and brothers hinted so very subtly that the maiden in question would be amenable to courting." She was not impressed. Her brother, unfortunately, paid that no mind. "I want someone I can talk with."
"Are you saying you cannot talk with me?" He pulled a face.
"You are my sister." Which was no explanation at all.
"Aegon! That woman is married. Have you considered it might be that her husband will want his pound of flesh?" The trouble with her brother was that he remained unable to estimate the level of danger he exposed himself to. "Are you hearing a word I'm saying?" He shrugged.
Disgusted with his lack of responsiveness, Rhaenys gave his leg a good kick. That was not such a good idea as it turned out. Somehow her brother managed to further exasperate her by knocking over the still unchecked letters.
"What's that?"
Viserys chuckled. "You've done what?" His uncle was more than happy to give him a harsh stare. "My advice is to put it back where you found it and forget you ever did. Some things are not meant to see the light of day."
"That is just it. If what we found is true, then keeping silent will only make this situation harder. Uncle, it truly is important that you come." Aegon waited with baited breath for a reply. "We'll be waiting."
A strange emotion crossed his features. Not entirely certain what that said of both himself and the man before him, Aegon drew back slightly. If no answer came, he would have to somehow find out more about the whole matter on his own, which he hadn't the mind to. He could not ask such a thing of his father. Not when he was not supposed to have in-depth knowledge of such matters.
"Aeg, I do not know what you think you found, but this is not the time nor the place. We are, all of us, still very much shocked by recent losses."
"It might help if you would tell me why exactly we're freezing in the middle of the garden during a storm." Daenerys hated it when Jon did that. She was not unaware of the flaws in their little scheme. "Should I take it that Aegon failed to find the missives?"
"Would that you gave me a moment to explain," she snapped. She had no feasible lie on hand. "Do you not care at all that I am distressed?"
"I might, if you told me why." Impervious, her close kin turned an eye upon the rows of dead hedges. "What is this about, Dany?"
"You never ease up, do you?" Jon shrugged. "Well, if you must know, it is about Aegon. He needs your help getting rid of those troublesome letters." And she needed help avoiding being found out. "I do not want you attempting it alone."
"Are you saying you wish to be my page?"
Something was amiss. Viserys had made a point of staying out of the schemes so abundant about court. He'd avoided the Dornish, though their current princess proved a true temptation, and he avoided, in equal measure, those courtiers close to his brother. He avoided the men wishing to force the King's hand into sending away Jon Waters away just as he avoided those hailing from the North. As far as he was concerned, his sole purpose was to hide away from the ambitions of others and if at all possible avoid his brother's attempts to grab more and more power.
His whole endeavour had been coming along splendidly up until Aegon approached him. Truth be told, Viserys liked both of Rhaegar's sons in equal measure. One was a carefree idealist and the other a more guarded version of the first. Little wonder they rubbed along so well. Had he not known the truth, Viserys might have sworn they shared a mother along with a sire.
He blinked at the intricate pattern adorning the tapestry. Hunting. He scoffed. Indeed, he hoped all the fools lost their seat. That had to be the wine, he considered a few moment later, stumbling towards the empty bed awaiting his arrival.
Aegon was well aware that Rhaenys's mirroring his expression lent credence to the point that the both of them were in trouble. The sort of trouble that involved one of those many matters they had been advised against meddling into.
Grandmother's expression fared no better, except for the set of her mouth indicating she'd taken umbrage at their actions. "Those letters were meant for my eyes alone." Did he imagine the sliver of fear? "Give those back."
"Who is this Lyanna who writes to you from Braavos?" he demanded. Despite his knees fairly knocking together at the potential magnitude of his discovery, Aegon pressed on. "Why does she expect to receive coin from you?"
"Aegon!"
"Grandmother! I think this is no mere Lyanna." It was not that difficult to put together. "But how could it be the same one I think of when she's been dead and buried well past a score of years?"
Rhaenys stepped in. "For what purpose this trickery, grandmother? Why is there an urn in Baelor's Sept when the lady resides in Braavos?" She sounded calmer, somehow. The hand on his arm shook so vigorously he feared she might lose her grip. "
"Lyanna Stark died long ago at the Tower of Joy. You may keep your own missives if that is what you wish," she nodded towards him, "but I need those to be returned to me. I am willing to forget your indiscretions."
That was his chance. He could secure a reprieve from her interventions if only he sacrificed the tiny bit of knowledge he'd acquired. After all, he'd thought Lady Lyanna gone. What could would it do to raise the dead?