Oh, how she detests him. Alicent watches the Rogue Prince from across the table as he makes pleasant conversation with the lords and ladies who sit about him. Daemon's last words to her still ring inside her ears.

"I should think you jealous."

He will pay for such vile insinuations.

Jealous, she scoffs to herself, jealous of Rhaenyra… of Rhaenyra's lovers.

No, the Queen decides, not jealous: aggrieved.

For Rhaenyra had hardened her heart against Alicent long before she ever turned away from the princess. Rhaenyra had never quite forgiven her for her marriage to the King. How could she think it my decision? the Queen has asked herself over the years, She must know it was my father who decided upon my fate.

It is not their lot in life as women to choose these things.

And yet… Rhaenyra has refused to make the sacrifices expected of her sex. She flouts both convention and decency, and then she judges her dearest friend for staying true to what is moral.

Does she think I enjoy lying upon my back whilst Viserys pumps away? Does she think I look forward to my days spent suffering in the childbed, toiling in my own filfth to give Viserys another son? Alicent had thought one boy should be enough, but no, there was to be a daughter as well and then a second son. She is thankful for her lord husband's illness, for it is rare now that he calls upon her.

Alicent understands how it may have unsettled her friend to have her late mother replaced so quickly by a companion so close to her, and yet… Alicent never once lied to her: Rhaenyra had never asked.

Alicent initially thought her friend would return to her once she'd had time to adjust and they should once again pass the days of their lives side by side. Perhaps they should read together like they did as young girls against the base of that old tree, Rhaenyra's head upon her lap – her fragrant blonde hair streaming o'er Alicent's skirts; her pretty eyes twinkling with sunlight as they used to whilst the Queen recites a verse.

But the princess had turned away from the Queen with a coldness that sent a chill through Alicent's own heart. She swore, Alicent remembers, upon her own mother whilst she lied.

Never again shall the two women kneel side by side in the candlelight. How angelic Rhaenyra had looked with her eyes closed in prayer, her pale lashes fluttering against her glossy cheeks.

Who would have thought, Alicent muses, such a heart of stone could live within a woman so fair?

She pushes the thought away. Rhaenyra is many things as of late and fair is not one of them.

Daemon laughs across the table, humoring a lord to his right, who has no doubt made some tedious jest. How well he plays them all, thinks the Queen to herself and feels exhausted by the whole of it – of the games they all play – of being the only one in court to speak the truth of what she sees.

His eyes meet hers and she looks away reflexively. She had not meant to stare.

"How fares my lord husband?" Alicent asks the King. She has sat by his side tonight, instead of opposite the table to prevent his brother's meddling – a decision easily attributed to Visery's failing health.

"The leeching has calmed my blood," replies the King. "I am restored."

"I am glad to hear it," says Alicent, her eyes drifting back to Viserys' brother, who has resumed his conversation with the lord who sits beside him. "Daemon seems to be adjusting rather quickly," she says in a tone as light as she is capable of.

"Indeed," replies the King, "though he sets out for Driftmark in the morn."

"Driftmark?"

"His girls are struggling without him," says Viserys. "Lord Corlys and Lady Rhaenys are doing their best but they have only just met the girls. Rhaenyra has sent for their father."

"Of course she has," mutters Alicent under her breath as she watches Viserys inspect his chicken. "We should accompany him," she says brightly, "to Driftmark. I am sure the presence of the King shall do wonders to lift their spirits. And I should think Daemon's girls would find a thrill in the company of our young princes."

"Indeed!" says Viserys.

"Besides," the Queen adds, taking her lord husband's hand, "the sea air is known for its healing properties."

"You are good to me," says the Viserys.

"It is my duty," she says sweetly, "to look after you, my King."

"Let us go then," he says with a smile, "It shall be good to see Rhaenyra under less somber circumstances," and turns back to his meal.