Jacaerys did not attend the day's training so that he wouldn't be under Lord Larys' gaze for he wanted to arrive in the library earlier than him so that he could find a chance to speak with Princess Helaena. He hid the butterfly and the bottle in his purse, but did not intend to give it to her right now, because he wanted to gift it to his aunt in a more welcoming environment and not where the shadow of Lord Larys constantly roamed.

He found her sitting behind a table reading a lengthy book. He dashed closer to her, "Princess, greetings!" he whispered.

She turned to him, her features not betraying her emotions. She studied his face and then spoke, "Good morrow, Prince Jacaerys."

Jacaerys invited himself to sit beside her, "How are you faring, princess? I received your massage from last night and it filled me with joy to know that you appreciate me, even though I do not deserve it."

The princess refused to look at him as she turned her gaze to her book, "I do not give away kind gestures to people I don't deem worthy, my prince. No one had ever read a book for me and you were so thoughtful to be the first for me," she looked at him again with a new found courage, "Thank you."

Jacaerys just knew that his cheeks were growing red by her words, but his mind suppressed that by reminding him of another part of her sentence, "How can I be the first one to ever read to you?" he asked with suspicion though he tried to be careful not to hurt her feelings, "Unless you kept a company of illiterates around you." He hoped she would warm up to his joke.

She did not let out any reactions, therefore, making Jacaerys anxious. "A company? Like a band of handmaidens?" she sounded like she was asking for something outwardly, "I never had the pleasure to have a company."

Jacaerys could not believe what he was hearing, "How that can be possible? You should have hundreds of ladies following you! You are a princess of the realm! People should love you!"

Princess Helaena let out a sad chuckle, "Who are these people, may I ask? I've only encountered people who loath me."

"I do not loath you," Jacaerys assured her.

She gave him a small smile, "I know, and I'm thankful for it."

Silence fell between the two with the princess returning to her book and Jacaerys playing rather awkwardly with his hand. He decided to approach her with a gentle tone, "Pray tell, princess, where is your favourite part of the castle? Mine is the Godswood, because I like the peace that surrounds there," he lied. He liked the Godswood because that was where his father went whenever he needed solace and solitude.

The princess blushed out of embarrassment, "I'm afraid I cannot choose, my prince. Not because there is too many to choose, but because I have seen none of them. I scarcely find myself in a new place. I remember being heaped with awe upon seeing the library for the first time. If it wasn't for Lord Larys, I wouldn't have this dim light in my days," she sighed ruefully, "Speaking of which, where is Lord Larys?"

"Uncl—" Jacaerys bite his tongue, "Lord Larys is currectly watching my brother's training." Even though last night he concluded that he wouldn't take Lord Larys away from the princess, for she needed his assistance, Jacaerys couldn't help but feel worried to have his uncle as a companion for his gentle aunt.

"Oh," the princess was clearly disappointed, "I hoped to talk with him."

A thought then sparked in Jacaerys' mind, but he feared that the princess would not accept him. He knew there was only way to find out her opinion, "I could listen to your words, princess. Just fill my ears with whatever you want."

"My words are too grave for you," she argued.

My whole life is a piece of grievance, Jacaerys wanted to say but instead spoke, "If Lord Larys could handle them, I'm sure I can too."

Princess Helaena shook her head earnestly, "No, please do not force me to, my prince. Please, no," she lamented as she took her book and was about to run away.

Jacaerys could not her allow to run again, not with a sour memory of him, "Princess, please wait!" he extended his hand and took hers. She stopped and turned to him, regret written in her eyes.

"I beg your forgiveness, princess," Jacaerys pleaded, "I shouldn't have pressured you."

"No… I…" she murmured incoherently.

Jacaerys could not believe he was causing her distress. "Why…why don't we forget about this? In fact, let's get out of here, let me guide you to a place that I hold dear."

The princess looked at him again, abating to his words, "Where do you intent to take me?" she whispered.

Jacaerys realised he had not think of a place before speaking, and hence said the one place that came to his mind right away, "The Godswood."

Her purple eyes shone with curiosity, and made Jacaerys to feel pity for himself, for against her mesmerising purple, his unremarkable brown pales in comparison. "The Godswood? I would like to see it with my own eyes, all I know from that place is from my mother's tales, and they often are sour ones."

Jacaerys smiled, "Let us go there at once, the Godswood is particularly beautiful at this time of the day."

And so, they exited the library, walking nonstop to the Godswood. On their way, Jacaerys constantly persuaded his aunt to go faster, for he did not want Lord Larys to see them. He also hoped that the servant and bystanders who saw them along the way wouldn't report to his uncle. Although, why would they even know Lord Larys? Jacaerys sometimes scoffed at how paranoid he was of his uncle.

When they entered the gardens leading to the Godswood, the princess began panting out of awe and amazement. Jacaerys did not know what to do, so he petted her on the back affectionately, "Princess, are you alright?"

"Yes," she cried, "I'm only overwhelmed; overwhelmed by beauty." She ran her hands through the flowers and trees alike and sometimes would run with the flying creatures through the garden. Astonishment took over Jacaerys at how a princess could be so solemn in one moment and then suddenly gleeful in the next. Though nevertheless, he was glad that he was an indirect cause to her happiness.

"Princess," he called for her, "We should be at the Godswood, do not tire yourself so easily."

Prinecss Helaena seemed to only realise the sweets on her forehead just now, as she cleaned them, she smiled at Jacaerys, "I apologise, Prince Jacaerys, I just had never seen this many beautiful creatures in one place. They speak of… joyfulness," she sighed dreamily as she joined him and they resumed their walk.

Jacaerys was drastically mistaken when he thought that she was taken by the garden, because when they stumbled upon the entrance to the Godswood, he saw that her eyes were mesmerised by the great tree before them, her mouth opened ajar, and her lips murmuring unclear words. She began walking towards the Weirwood by herself, as if her mind was shut but her heart told her where to go.

Jacaerys realised that what a beautiful scene was on play before him; the wind blew in her hair, making them flow in the air while she walked down a path of lilacs and roses towards a white face carved on a tree. It was breathtaking.

When she reached the tree, the princess rested her head on the tree and put a hand on the white face. Jacaerys decided not to interrupt her, but he could not refrain himself from prying. So, he walked into the field of flowers and from a distance, studied the princess: her eyes were closed, and she was whispering something to the tree. She looked happy.

Jacaerys looked at his purse, which inside of it was the butterfly he caught for her, and couldn't help but to compare two gifts he had or intended to give her: one completely by chance that resulted in her honest gratification, and one residing in his purse that he did not think would have the same effect. Jacaerys did not feel remorse or contempt for preparing such gift for her, but rather, he rejoiced in the fact that he could bring merriment to her by doing such simple things like taking her to a walk.

After a minute or two, the princess finally seemed contented with the tree. She put his hand away and turned to Jacaerys, but did not speak. "Is anything amiss, princess?" he asked instead.

She seemed conflicted whether to answer it or not, "No…" she sighed, "I don't wish to burden you with this matter, my prince. I will wait for Lord Larys and will talk with him."

Him again, Jacaerys thought bitterly. Even though in the last night he promised himself not to sully Lord Larys' reputation to the princess, he found himself with new results: his uncle was a dark and dreadful being and Jacaerys couldn't let him corrupt Princess Helaena's pure soul. "Are you sure you want to put all your trust into Lord Larys, princess?"

Princess Helaena instantly became tensed, "Please, my prince, do not talk of him when he's not here to defend himself." Jacaerys knew she meant that he should stop because his words caused her distress, and he heeded her words.

"Forgive me, I misspoke again," he apologised as he thought of a way to mend the harm. He looked at his purse and sighed in relief. "I completely forgot, perhaps because this day was so engrossingly wonderful, I got you a gift after receiving your massage."

Princess Helaena's features softened again, and she put a hand on her lips, "A gift? For me?"

Jacaerys then allowed himself to walk forward to her. When he reached her, he opened the purse and brought out the bottle and presented it to her, "A butterfly caught beneath the moonlight, for you, princess."

Princess Helaena extended her hands and took the bottle. She then opened it and led the butterfly to come out. It flew out of the little prison and landed on her hand. "He yearned for freedom, and I gave it to him," she whispered while looking at the butterfly. And then, she raised her head and gazed at Jacaerys with her purple eyes, "As you did for me. Thank you."

Jacaerys chuckled nervously, "No need to thank me, princess—"

"Helaena," she interrupted him, "Call me by my name."

Jacaerys stared at him for a moment, mouth opened agape, "Helaena," he murmured, "And Jacaerys."

"And Jacaerys," she repeated.
The blowing wind became the sole sound presented between them as the two stared at each other with no words worthy of saying. The butterfly gleefully flew of her hand to his fate and the white face of the Weirwood tree stood witness to the moment when Jacaerys Velaryon, enticed and enamoured by Helaena's countenance, admitted to himself that he admired a princess of the realm, one of Alicent's children, more than he should have had.

Helaena first broke the eye contact by looking at the sky, "I believe it is the time to bid you goodbye," she said remorsefully.

"If you wish so," said Jacaerys.

"I do not wish it, but it's inevitable for me to return," she pointed out.

Jacaerys offered her his hand, "Then let us get going, I will accompany you."

She hesitated, but eventually accepted his invitation. And so, the two began walking out of the Godswood with their hands entwisted to each other.

YYY

When nighttime comes one goes to sleep—or that is what everyone else do, for Jacaerys was sitting abed, looking at the moon from his window. Perhaps he wanted to catch another butterfly for Helaena, or perhaps he was simply not tired at all.

Or perhaps it was because he felt dread emerging from all sides; an ill-omened feeling that tonight won't end as well as it started in the day.

Knock. Jacaerys turned his head towards the door. He sat up and went to open it, even though he feared of what was on the other side. His suspicion proved true, for when he opened the door, he saw his uncle, dressed in a black mantle and wearing a wicked grin. "My lord," he greeted him with no sincerity, "It is late at night, don't you think?"

"I see you still refuse to call me uncle, nephew," the last word felt like venom to Jacaerys. "May I come in?"

"You may not," said Jacaerys with all the courage he could muster, "I wish to sleep."

"Yet I do not see any effects of sleeping on your face," Lord Larys argued, "Our talk won't be painfully long, I promise."

Simply seeing you is painful, Jacaerys thought as he allowed his uncle to enter. He slowly crawled into the room, throbbing the ground with his cane.

"How was your day, nephew?" he asked as he made his way to the wardrobe and hanged his mantle over it.

"Pleasant enough," Jacaerys answered.

Lord Larys chuckled, "Are you sure pleasant is a good word to describe today's events?"

Jacaerys froze. There was no way that his uncle could know what had happened in the day. "I'm not a wordmaster, my lord."

"No, but I argue that you are a master in gift-giving," his eyes sparkled with amusement, "After all, who could drag the Lonely Princess Helaena out of library to the gardens and the Godswood if not a lord of enchantments and gifts?"

Jacaerys gritted his teeth, it was foolish of him not to disguise himself and Helaena. "She simply wanted to explore the castle, something that she was denied from all her life."

"And you used this opportunity to poison her mind against her confidant," Lord Larys snapped. It was the first time that Jacaerys saw him raising his voice, perhaps the Strong temper was in him all along, he just mastered to suppress it.

"I never attempted to intoxicate her mind, my lord," Jacaerys answered, "I only want to prevent anyone from abusing her."

Lord Larys' smile disappeared from his face, and Jacaerys realised how frightening his uncle became without that feigned sweet smile. "Abuse her? Do you see me this monstrous, my prince? Or do you simply refuse to see me for what I am?" he began closing the gap between the two of them, "Let me enlighten you then; I do not wish to abuse anyone. I strife to do what is right, amongst them is helping the princess with her dreams, or befriending you."

"I do not wish to befriend you!" Jacaerys snarled and a second later regretted his words.

Lord Larys' eyes darkened, "Neither do I," he admitted, "But my duty is to guide you."

Jacaerys exhaled a breath and refrained himself from screaming, "Guiding to what?"

"To end this pathetic dream of yours," his answered, "The illusion that you can be a Targaryen."

Jacaerys narrowed his eyes, "I am a Targaryen through and through. My blood comes from a princess of the realm. My warmth hatched my dragon. I bear with myself a pure Valyrian name—"

Lord Larys laughed mockingly, "My name ends with 'S' too, should I claim myself a lost dragon?" he smile faded as soon as he said those words, "You are no Targaryen, child, and you never will be one. You are only a Strong."

Jacaerys put a hand on his chest, he was feeling again short of breath. His uncle wanted him to spill out the truth but Jacaerys new that truth hurts more than it mends. "I do not wish to hear such foul words. Please, my lord, leave me be!" he exclaimed.

For a moment, Jacaerys suspected that his uncle would honour his wish and leave him alone. But then, Lord Larys began crawling towards a wall. Jacaerys frowned in confusion but did not stop him. His uncle put a hand on one the wall's bricks and then, to Jacaerys absolute shock, pushed it inside. The wall began to tremble and before his own eyes, he saw a secret hallway emerging from the moving bricks. Lord Larys then began walking into the dark. "Come along, nephew," he did not even make the effort to turn back and face Jacaerys.

Jacaerys but was feeling absolutely terrified, and if he was on his right mind, he would've stayed where he was. But unfortunately, he began following his uncle.

And as they walked further, Jacaerys became less and less certain that he has seen these parts of the castle before. Secret hallways lit by torchlight but conquered by cobwebs, he couldn't believe such things existed behind the Red Keep's walls. "Who…built these halls?" he asked.

"A question of no importance," Lord Larys answered, "If you were wise enough, you would've asked me how I discovered them."

"It's not a tale I would like to know, I'm afraid," said Jacaerys.

Lord Larys led out a light chuckle, "Now that's what a wise man would say."

They again succumbed to silence with Jacaerys dreading over the darkness of the halls and the grim history behind it and Lord Larys probably enjoying his torment.

Jacaerys' eyes caught the end of the hall, where a light different from the torchlight shone. He instinctively began running towards the light. With every step, it grew until it lightened Jacaerys' whole face. He reached the light and extended his hand to feel it. Suddenly, for a second he felt as if he was flying but then something pulled him back. He took a moment to understand what just happened and saw that standing on a balcony with the world below him and the moon close to his touch.

"Mesmerised by the moon," Lord Larys commented as he released Jacaerys from his grip, "You should be more careful, nephew."

Jacaerys' eyes were widened out of astonishment. "Where are we?" he murmured breathlessly.

"The roof of the Red Keep," his uncle answered, "A place built by Maegor's own hands, exclusive only to him. This is where no man has ever set foot in. Well, no man full of body at least," his gaze fell on his clubfoot, "Tonight, nephew, you became special."

Jacaerys' eyes were still lying on the scene before him: King's Landing in night effulged in dim lights. He could feel the presence of the small folk, whether asleep or not. Somewhere in the city, his father, the lord commander of the City Watch, with his glistering gold clock, watched over the citizens' lives and protected them from harm. "Why have you brought me here, uncle?" he finally succumbed into using the title, as he couldn't hide it anymore. Larys Strong was his uncle and there was no denying it.

His uncle thought for a second, "Pray tell, nephew, what do you see before you?"

Jacaerys tried to summarise all his thoughts into one sentence, "I see life."

"But I see death," he retorted, "Every corner of this shattered city smells of blood. Love fades in the uncertainty of betrayals. We live in the fear of a much worse tomorrow. The King's Peace… is a lie."

Jacaerys turned to his uncle, frowning out of confusion. He could not outright refuse his words, much to his dismay, but he did not want to believe them either. "What do you mean, uncle? My mother's claim is yet to be challenged. The king is still living strong and the line of the Targaryens is abundant. We have never been stronger."

Unexpectedly, Lord Larys led out a hollow laugh, "Well, you certainly are the optimistic, are you not?" he looked at Jacaerys' face and saw through his faked façade, "Even you, a child of ten, know the darkness that roams amongst us. And yet, you still fool yourself to believe otherwise? Open your eyes, young hatchling, you search for the sea in a pond whilst an ocean of blood grows beneath you," he put a hand on his shoulder and directed him to the city, "And the cascade that provides its water is none other than you."

Suddenly, clouds of black smoke began flying into the air. Cries for help erupted in the city as the bells rang in unison. Jacaerys gasped in shock as Lord Larys pulled him backwards, "Come, child. Let us return. We're no nightwalker." Even though Jacaerys wanted to know what has occurred in that part of the city, he surrendered to his uncle's wishes.

They returned to his bedchambers, where Lord Larys bid him goodnight and left him to sleep. Jacaerys but did not sleep, he only stared at the roof of his room until birds began singing of dawn.