Chapter Fourteen: Rhaenyra IV
Rhaenyra sat beside Otto Hightower in the Small Council chambers, both of them on the right of the King's seat. On the left of the King's seat sat Lyonel Strong, then the Grand Maester, then Lyman Beesbury, and opposite the King's seat was Corlys Velaryon, while the Lord Commander Harrold Westerling stood sentinel by the entrance of the chambers.
Rhaenyra was surprised that her father had allowed her to continue to attend Small Council meetings, which she had grown accustomed to doing before she departed for her marriage tour, but supposedly Otto Hightower had spoken in favour of Rhaenyra remaining as part of the Council, saying that she needs to learn to govern if she were to rule one day.
In truth, I would rather not attend them, they are so terribly boring.
She was also surprised that her father had not punished her about ending the marriage tour early, he had only given her a small slap on the wrist and stated that she would still need marry in due course, and he would still allow her to choose who she could marry.
Rhaenyra looked to her left at Otto Hightower, who sat upright, ready for the council meeting to begin, and then in front of her to Lyonel Strong, who leaned in his chair and seemed rather bored.
They both have sons I could marry.
Ser Thoren was clearly not interested in Rhaenyra in the slightest, but she had still noticed that he always tried to approach her during court and make conversation, especially ever since she returned from Dragonstone. His father also had been speaking quite highly of Rhaenyra too, recently.
Likely because he wants Thoren to marry me.
Meanwhile, Rhaenyra had barely seen Ser Harwin, who had been busy in his role as the Lord Commander of the City Watch. Apparently, the elusive preacher from Fleabottom that called himself The Shephard had reappeared for the first time since her father's wedding, but still, the City Watch still could not find a trace of the man.
Maybe this so-called Shephard is a woman.
"All stand for the King!" declared Ser Harrold, as everyone on the council table stood and bowed their heads.
King Viserys entered the room, in a black surcoat on top of a black doublet, which was lined with cloth-of-gold, and on his leather belt was his Valyrian Steel dagger. A few paces behind him were two of the Kingsguard members, the twins Ser Arryk and Ser Erryk, in their milky white armor and snow white cloaks that flowed behind them.
Rhaenyra's father walked towards his seat and took his small black and red marble ball from the bowl and placed it in his holder to signify his presence.
"Council in session!" he declared, as all the members took their seats again at the table.
The first issue to be brought was by Lyman Beesbury over yet another land dispute between the Brackens and Blackwoods, it was supposedly the fifth dispute of the year. After that was a matter that concerned Rhaenyra's uncle, Prince Daemon.
"Your Grace... on the topic of Prince Daemon's return... this may yet cause an... issue to arise." Otto Hightower began.
"Why would that be, Otto?"
"Daemon's... adventures in Essos included some time fighting for the Second Sons while contracted to Pentos in some disagreement over the lands south of the Velvet Hills. The Braavosi may still not be happy with Caraxes burning their legions in battle."
"The fact that he fought against Braavos is irrelevant in the matter, he was merely a sellsword at the time." Viserys scoffed. " What do you expect me to do? Banish my brother again over some hurt Braavosi feelings? I would not go as far as that, Otto, no matter how much you would like to see me do it."
"Yes... Your Grace, the matter should be irrelevant. But Braavos is a proud city, and your acceptance of Daemon back to the capital may be taken as a... slight. I would not... banish Daemon myself... but… an offer of goodwill towards the Braavosi may be… necessary in order not to... endanger the Iron Bank's funding towards the throne."
"Ser Otto is correct in this matter." Lyonel Strong added. "With the powerful Lysene Rogare Bank already no longer funding the Crown, it would be a major blow for us to lose the Iron Bank too."
"On the topic of Lys, the Triarchy-" Corlys Velaryon interrupted.
"Yes, Lord Corlys, the Stepstones, yes, the tariffs, yes, we went over this many a time! No new developments have happened since we last spoke of this, and if there were to be any more, I assure you, I would take action. Yes... Otto, you were saying about the Braavosi situation."
You haven't taken any action at all, though, Father.
Otto Hightower continued. "I would suggest sending Lord Beesbury to treat with the Iron Bank regarding a new trade deal-"
The suggestion seemed to wake Lyman Beesbury who was on the verge of falling asleep. "M-me, Lord Hand?" he spluttered.
"Yes. As much as I would prefer Lord Beesbury to remain here in the capital, sending anything less than our Master of Coin may… offend the Braavosi."
Rhaenyra's father sighed. "If you insist, Otto. You may arrange for a galley to transport Lord Beesbury on the morrow."
"At once, Your Grace."
"Are there any more pressing concerns that needs attending to?"
Next was the news of the God Emperor of Yi-Ti being overthrown, and then the Mallisters reported more Ironborn raids across their coast. Next, Corlys Velaryon brought the good news of Princess Baela's dragon egg hatching, a slender she-dragon that had a pale green body and pearly horns and claws. The dragonkeepers later entered the chambers to announce that Dreamfyre had left her lair in the Dragonpit, and had flown away in the direction of Dragonstone, for a reason no one knew yet.
Rhaenyra could scarcely remember the remainder of the meeting, and she was about to join Lyman Beesbury in sleeping until her father announced that the council was at an end.
The council had gone on for so long the sky was already dark, so Rhaenyra headed to the kitchens to fetch a quick supper before sleeping. She took a loaf of bread and a chunk of yellow cheese and headed back to her bedchambers.
The Red Keep was silent by now, with only a few handmaidens and drunken squires walking around, and Rhaenyra could hear the sound of rats scuttling behind the walls. It had become so quiet at this hour that she could hear the sounds of the city off in the distance, music and laughs and shouts and moans.
As the Red Keep goes to sleep, Fleabottom just wakes up.
Rhaenyra passed by Ser Criston Cole, who was posted by the doors to her bedchambers, with his helmet in his arm.
"Good night, Ser Criston." Rhaenyra said to him, as she entered her room.
"Sleep well, Princess." Ser Criston responded curtly.
As Rhaenyra closed the doors, she noticed a sack laid out on her table.
That's not mine.
She emptied the contents of the sack onto the table. Inside it were peasant's clothing, a large grey hat, a ragged brown tunic, and ripped boys' breeches. At the bottom was a piece of parchment neatly rolled up.
Rhaenyra slowly unrolled the parchment and read what was written on there.
It's in High Valyrian.
The note had a small map and a crude drawing of her bookshelf, with High Valyrian glyphs describing a secret doorway if she moved one of the books.
She followed the instructions and the labelled bookshelf turned out to be a secret doorway. It opened into a tight hallway, with a spiral staircase leading down into the darkness.
Rhaenyra closed the trapdoor behind her and walked carefully down the staircase, gripping the rusted steel railings as she went. The air was cold and damp, while drops of water fell onto Rhaenyra's hands as she descended. It took her five minutes of walking down the crumbling, moist, stone steps until she reached the bottom.
Off in the distance she spotted the glow of torches, so she headed in that direction. The hallway became narrower and narrower, until she reached the light, where it opened into a large wide room.
Suddenly, Rhaenyra was standing beneath the giant skull of a dragon, which was lit up by a thousand candles.
Balerion's skull!
It's open jaw and the glow of candles looked as if Rhaenyra was about to be drowned in the fire of the dragon and eaten whole. In Balerion's left eye, a small rat was nibbling on a small chunk of cheese stolen from the kitchen, and in the right, another rat was nibbling on a chunk of meat that dripped blood onto the cool stone floor below.
On the other side of the crypts was another small hallway, which Rhaenyra headed down. This time, the hallway was lit by small torches, and at the end of the tunnel stood her uncle, who was wearing a large black hood that covered his hair.
Rhaenyra smile breathlessly at her uncle, while he simply smiled and turned around, and walked out into the night.
She followed him down the stone stairs and looked behind her at the looming shadow of the Red Keep, as she went into the city.
They made their way through Fleabottom, passing through winding alleys and under hanging clothes from the hovels above. Some person threw a bucket of shit down from their window that narrowly missed Rhaenyra, but the person walking behind her was not so lucky. They passed by a pack of wild dogs, a whore offering her services to passers-by, and a small crowd gathered around two children with sharpened teeth beating each other to the death. After the fighting pit came street vendors, selling bowls of brown, pigeon meat, and rusted daggers. Street performers asked Rhaenyra if she would like to know how she would die, while a mummer next to her was holding a blue dragon that spat flames from its mouth. The alleyways eventually widened and they were out of the stinking mess that was Fleabottom, and they were now underneath the gigantic shadow of the Dragonpit, which was sat atop Rhaenys' Hill.
There was a mummer's show playing in one of the squares, so Rhaenyra and Daemon stopped to watch.
On the stage appeared a man with a white wig, riding what looked to be a red dragon. "It is I, the Prince of the City, returning to take my rightful place as heir to the throne!" as the crowd cheered, shouting "Lord Fleabottom!" and "The Rogue Prince!" at the mummer.
Then, appeared a man in green, decorated with a seven-pointed-star for a necklace, and what seemed to be a real hand on his chest.
"Do you not know, Daemon? The King has a son now, so you are no longer heir!" said the green man, while the crowd cheered but also booed him.
"Yes, the Hand says it true, but the King still keeps the girl as his heir!" shouted the narrator of the show, while the crowd booed at that.
"Who should our King choose, the uncle, the son, or the daughter?" he asked, whilst the majority of the crowd responded with cries of "Prince Daeron!" but some also shouted "Prince Daemon!"
"The Realm's Delight, she is called, but it seems as though the people of the city would not like to see a queen!" the narrator laughed, while the crowds jeered at the suggestion of Rhaenyra becoming the Queen. "It seems as though Prince Daeron should succeed his father, because he has one thing his sister does not... a cock!"
"The opinion of peasants are of no concern to me, anyways!" scoffed Rhaenyra, walking away.
"They shall be your concern if you are to rule them one day." Daemon said, following.
"I followed you out here to not be burdened by my duties for one bloody night, not to be reminded of them," she complained.
"Ahh... well if it is pleasure you seek, come this way."
They made a sharp turn to the right, down a long alley, and they came out on the Street of Silk.
All around were brothels, with people inside coupling and performing other... acts with each other. Out in the street in plain view of everyone were a man and a woman proudly in the act of mating, while a few yards down there were two men doing the same, then later two women and one man. All across the street were whores, both male and female, and naked dancers caressing the arms of passers-by. Rhaenyra looked into one of the brothels, where she saw about twenty people all nude. Her gaze lay in the building for too long, and she accidentally walked into a man on the street.
"Watch yourself, boy!" the man grunted, before entering one of the brothels.
"Did you see that?" asked Rhaenyra to her uncle, excitedly running to catch him up. "He called me boy!"
Daemon simply smirked, and pulled off the hat Rhaenyra she wore to cover her silver-and-gold hair that was tied in a bun.
"Come." Daemon whispered, entering the brothel at the end of the street. "You dread marriage, sweet niece, but for all of us it is merely a political arrangement... it does not stop us from seeking what we desire… man or woman. Do not live in fear, Rhaenyra. You are a Targaryen, a Valyrian, you can do what you want, you can take what you went."
Daemon led her through the brothel, where she passed rooms of men and women and groups of people all performing sexual acts with one another. Rhaenyra was shocked at the display, but she was also in awe of it, and felt strangely warm inside.
Once they reached a wall, Daemon grabbed Rhaenyra by her collar and kissed her. He quickly began to undress her, undoing her tunic and pulling down her breeches.
Rhaenyra kissed back, reaching for her uncle's crotch, until suddenly he backed away. Daemon pulled up his breeches and stormed off, leaving Rhaenyra in the brothel.
What did I do wrong?
"Uncle? Daemon?" she called out.
A small child sitting on one of the steps looked at her and scuttled off, and suddenly, Rhaenyra realised where she was.
She felt exposed at that moment, as she hastily pulled up her breeches and tied up her tunic.
Where did he go?
Rhaenyra quickly ran out of the brothel, but Daemon was nowhere in sight, so she started off in the general direction where she thought she came from.
Somewhere along the way, she got lost, and could not find her uncle, nor the route she took to get to the brothel. She stumbled from alley to alley, trying to find her way home. In one of the alleys, she was so focused on where she was going, and ran right into a large man in black armor and a long golden cloak.
The City Watch!
"Watch where you're going- Princess?" the man said. He had long brown hair twisted into a bun and soft, brown eyes.
"Ser Harwin?" Rhaenyra asked.
He quickly looked around before seizing Rhaenyra by the arm. "You should not be out this late, boy. Let's get you home."
They got to the Red Keep, and Ser Harwin whispered for the guards at the portcullis to let them in. Once Rhaenyra was inside, he grabbed the man at the gate by the neck and told him that what he saw did not happen, and then sent Rhaenyra on her way.
Quickly, Rhaenyra rushed back to her chambers, not wanting to be seen awake this late. Though her uncle had left her in the brothel alone, her encounter with Ser Harwin had brought back that strange, warm feeling in her body. Despite this, she still felt as if something was missing.
When she returned to her bedchambers, she found Ser Criston there, standing guard with his helmet in his arm, just as she last saw him earlier in the evening.
"Princess, how-" he asked, confused.
Saying nothing, Rhaenyra just smiled, before taking his helmet and running into her bedchambers.