The newest transgession has taken place about half an hour ago and Lysei can't help it. She can't help the tears running down
her face.
She doesn't know why she threw her glass in Alytta's face, she doesn't know why she didn't as usual and acted as if nothing had happened and the sneering ramerks of the queen's ladies in waiting didn't hurt her.
Barren. they say. Ugly, isolated. She's been married half a year now, and not once have the people seen the third queen.
She hides in the gardens, hides from everyone and she thinks that it is all her fault.
Of course Rhaenys and Vysenya were not jumping with excitement to see their brother marry again. Some even say the were unhappy that Aegon had chosen yet another wife. A plain one at that.
The corset around her stomach is costricting and she heaves when she will not calm down. She is ready to sink against the pillars and cry in silence like she has done so much the past few months.
She doesn't know what else to do. She doesn't know hwat to say to Aegon's silence or his short curt responses, nor to Vysenya's staring and Rhaenys's frowning face.
Once again, Lysei retreats, crown heavy on her head, hand before her mouth, a mocking reminder of the golden cage she finds herself in.