Robin opened her eyes. A gauzy white canopy stretched out above and a large silken featherbed held her up. Someone had taken off her cotton dress and replaced it was a satin shift. When she clasped her hands together she saw that she was wearing a ruby ring on the smallest finger of her right hand. Where was she? Why had she not died? In her mind's eye, Robin saw the flames coming out of Syrax's terrible jaws, headed straight for her.
When she tried to sit up, pain struck her in the back of her head.
"Oh, Princess Rhaelyna, you're awake?" For the first time, Robin noticed a septa in her middle years sitting at her bedside watching her. She had a kind face, with gentle hazel eyes lined with crow's feet. "My princess, how do you feel?"
After a moment, Robin realized to her shock that the septa was referring to her. "Me? I-I'm fine, but there must be some mistake. Where am I?" She looked around the bedchamber with wide disbelieving eyes. All around her were finely crafted pieces of furniture, intricately decorated tapestries, and little jeweled trinkets.
"Your own bedchamber my princess." The septa replied confused. "You were infirmed here after your fall. You have been sleeping for two days and nights. Worry not, for Grand Maester Orwyle believes you haven't broken anything. I shall sent for him and for her Grace Queen Rhaenyra."
Robin lay silent with shock, unable to comprehend the septa's words. The Grand Maester? The Usurper Queen? Why in the name of the Seven should they care about the daughter of a candlemaker? Robin ran a hand through her hair, as was her habit. It wasn't the mass of lank brown hair she was born with, but soft curls the color of silver.
A little old man with a bald head entered the room and began examining her.
"I don't remember what happened." She said to him, hoping to get some sort of explanation.
Grand Maester Orwyle shook his head disappointingly as he had her sit up so he could check the bones of her spine. "You were going to have a dragon race with your brother but slipped off the saddle as Dreamfyre took to the sky. You had not strapped yourself in properly and we all feared the worst. Fortunately your fall was not from too high. Tell me Princess Rhaelyna, do you feel any soreness?"
"In the back of my head." She admitted. Her head ought to have been a charred lump, not merely sore.
The Usurper, Maegor With Teats, chose this time to storm into the room. Her beautiful face and silvery hair were illuminated by the morning sunshine. A sea-green dressing robe was wound tightly around her body, emphasizing the weight that came with bearing children. "Rhaelyna, my sweetling." She pulled Robin into a deep, long hug.
This had to be a dream, a vision before death came for her at last. Maegor With Teats was holding her close like a long-lost daughter. Surely this could not be real.
The queen broke the hug and looked at her. There was kind concern in her purple eyes; and love as well, Robin realized with a jolt. "Rhaelyna, I'm glad to you're up and about. I want to you to follow the Grand Maester's every word until you recover. Am I understood?"
"Aye your Grace." Robin replied shyly.
Rhaenyra seemed puzzled by her response, or perhaps by the manner in which it was delivered. "Rest, dear heart. You seem tired and not like yourself. I'll have your brothers come see you later today. I must go now, but I'll return to sup with you tonight."
When Rhaenyra took her leave, handmaidens bathed and fed Robin. Wearing another pretty satin shift, Robin feasted on the finest duck she'd ever had in her life, swimming in spices and sauces she had only ever heard of, washed down with cool, sweet wine. Her hands moved with precision and grace that she was not accustomed to, as if she had eaten like a highborn lady all her life and only just now noticed it.
As per the maester's instruction, Robin returned to sleep. Her dreams were filled with shrieking dragons and the wild, ruthless mob. The Shepard held her by the shoulders, his grip so strong and tight she could not escape, and condemned her to rot in hell with the unholy beasts she loved so much.
"Rhaelyna? Are you awake?" A voice asked from her door. Robin awoke, glad to be roused from her nightmare. A young man poked his head in the doorway.
Since "Rhaelyna" was what everyone called her here, Robin answered that she was. "Come closer please, so that I may see you better."
He did as bid, crossing the room and sitting on her bedside. His eyes were the color of amethysts now and his hair had taken on the same silvery-blonde color as hers, but though his face had become more angular and beautiful, Robin knew him in an instant.
"Prince Joffrey?" She gasped in horror. The image of a dark haired boy falling from a yellow dragon, being pierced by shards of slate, filled her mind's eye. "You... you can't be alive. I saw your death. You died in my arms and the goldcloaks came to take your bones back to your mother."
Alarmed, the prince held her face in his hands, "Don't be afraid sweet sister, it was only a bad dream."
"It couldn't have been a dream. I-I felt your blood on my fingers. It was real!" Robin began to weep. "I fear I have gone mad."
Prince Joffrey wrapped his strong arms around her and held her close to his chest. It was the same thing Robin's father had done every morning before leaving to run his errands and that only made her cry harder.
More boys entered the room, all looking startled to find her crying. The eldest, she surmised, must have been Prince Jacaerys, who had died trying to save his youngest brothers at the Battle of the Gullet. The lad next to him must have been Lucerys, the first of Rhaenyra's sons to die, slain by his own uncle Aemond One-Eye. That meant the two smallest ones were Aegon the Younger and Little Viserys.
"Lyna, are you alright? What happened?" Prince Jacaerys asked.
If they wanted her to play this role, she would have to play it well. "It was only a bad dream." She admitted, wiping her tears and trying to smile, "I'm fine, dear brothers, truly."
Little Viserys handed her a blue silk scarf with a purple dragon embroidered on it. "Baela sent this to you from Driftmark. She thought it would make you feel better."
She accepted the gift with a shy smile. "Thank you. It's the loveliest scarf I've ever seen. I should sent her a raven when I get the chance, to express my gratitude."
Like their mother, the boys all seemed perplexed by her behavior.
"What is it?" She asked.
"You're always saying you hate Baela's embroidery, that she sews as if all her fingers are broken." Aegon the Younger remarked plainly. "Not to her face, but to everyone else."
Robin blanched at her mistake. What was she thinking, believing she could fool the royal family into thinking she was truly this "Princess Rhaelyna"? They must have had a thousand expectations for what kind of girl she was suppose to be, yet she could not even guess what they were. The princes were all staring at her.
"I don't remember anything." Robin said softly. "I don't know who I'm suppose to be or why I'm here. I thought I could pretend I did, but I can't. I'm not a princess, nor am I your sister. I'm sorry for lying. Please don't cut off my head."
