"You know you don't have to go," Lyonel said, as Amalia passed the last of her clothes to the servants to take back to her chambers.
"I know, and I appreciate your offer to let me stay, darling," she said, turning to him with a dazzling smile and stroking his cheek. The servants closed the door behind them, leaving him and Amalia alone. "But I know my place, I am your mistress, not your wife, and as long as you are away from these rooms, so will I be."
"No one would say anything," Lyonel insisted.
She shrugged. "Perhaps, but I am not a naive woman." It was true, one of the many things he loved about Amalia. "I know what risks a woman takes when becoming a mistress who oversteps her place." She reached up and stroked his face. "You know, I wanted you because I thought it would be fun. But I must say, I have become rather fond of you."
"You have?"
She pulled him down and kissed him softly. "I have," she whispered. She pulled him back towards the bed and he fell on top of her, the mattress bouncing softly. He slid his arms under her and held her close.
"Amalia," he whispered, kissing along her jaw, up to her ear.
"Yes?"
"When I'm gone, will you look after Shireen for me?"
She stroked her fingers through his hair softly. "You discredit your sister if you think she needs someone to look after her."
"I know she can look after herself. But I still worry about her."
She giggled. "Alright. When I have time, I'll keep an eye on your darling sister."
"Thank you," he said, kissing her again.
"Now come on," she said, stroking his face with both hands. "I want this last night to be memorable."
He woke with Amalia curled against him, their legs tangled under the covers, her head on his shoulder. He leant down and kissed the top of her head softly. "Awake?" She asked, looking up at him with tired eyes.
"What if I said no?" He asked.
She flicked his nose. "Cheeky." She sat up and stretched, purposefully emphasising every curve and swell.
"That's cruel."
"You're leaving me here, possibly for months, who's the cruel one?"
"You think I'll be more comfortable."
"I think you'll be distracted." She linked their fingers. "Now, let's get you ready."
The two of them dressed, Amalia pulling on the last dress she had left in his room. "You're coming too? It's early."
"Of course I am. You didn't think I was going to just wave you off, did you?"
"You did last time."
"Like I said. I've become rather fond of you."
"So you'll wave me off from the shore, instead of a window?"
"Exactly," she grinned.
He froze before the doorway, turning back to his room, the bedclothes roughly tossed about, the desk clear of Amalia's books and papers, the wardrobe empty of her clothes and her trunk gone. "One last time," he said, turning to her. "Are you sure you have to go back? I can't think of much better than you being here when I come back. Mother wouldn't object, nor would the staff."
"You don't know that, besides, I won't take the risk."
"Risk?"
"Men find women when away from home. I know that well enough from interacting with merchants, let alone soldiers," she averted her eyes, a rare display for her. "And I've seen what my mother goes through when my father brings them back."
"I won't," he promised, taking her hands in his. "There's no woman who can hold a candle to you."
She smirked, her mirth already recovered. "I know love. But jewels and flowers have different appeals." She reached up and caressed his face with the pads of her fingers. "I like you, darling, but if you brought another woman back, I would have to leave. My dignity is a leather coin I am not willing to spend." She pulled him down and kissed him softly. "But I will leave you with a promise. If you come back without another woman and still want me. I will come back to you."
()()()
The army was gathered. Thousands of spears, arrows, swords and lances were packed into the holds of hundreds of ships. The soldiers were assembled in squares on the long beach of Dragonstone. Hundreds of row boats ferrying the soldiers under their banners onto the ships. The knights and horses were the first to have boarded on special transports, with only the infantry and archers left to go. Wagons now stood empty where before they had been overloaded with barrels of water and beer and sour wines to sustain the men should drinking water be in short supply in the war. Alongside that bushel after bushel of oats and wheat for the men and the horses. Two thousand horsemen and eight thousand infantry from the army camped at Dragonstone alone, the core of an army to conquer Crackclaw Point.
But they were not the only soldiers Lyonel had to fight with. Ships from the other islands of the narrow sea brought more soldiers and knights to his side, those that weren't already with the fleet would be sailing to meet him at Crackclaw Point.
Word had already been sent. Not trusting a raven to make it safely, they had despatched ships to deliver the message to Storm's End and from there deliver it by hand to his father so that King Stannis might factor it into his wider war plans.
"Prince Lyonel," Rennic said, waving him over to the jetty where a ship was waiting to take him to the Fury.
He turned to Amalia, who squeezed his hand reassuringly. He hadn't realised they'd been holding hands all the way down to the coast. "This is it then," he said.
"You'll do wonderfully," she told him. "Come, one last kiss," she said.
He leant down and kissed her, holding her tightly against him.
"I hope you won't be saying goodbye to us like that?"
They both looked at Shireen and his mother who, it seemed, had followed them down.
"That would be inappropriate," he reminded Shireen.
"Be careful Lyonel," she told him, putting on a strong face, even though he could see the tears about to break through. "I'll pray for you, every day."
"Well then I don't need to be careful." He joked.
"Lyonel!"
"I know, I know. I'll be careful," he promised. "Look after mother, won't you?" He whispered.
"You think mother needs looking after?"
He chuckled. "A fair point."
"Now while you say goodbye to mother, you'll have to excuse me." Shireen walked straight past him, and he turned to his mother.
"You're ready," she said.
"I am."
"It wasn't a question." She reached out and grasped his shoulder. "You're ready."
He nodded. Ser Davos' ships had sailed the coast of Crackclaw point, using old smugglers' coves to land men ashore and evaluate the situation on the point. They were poorly defended there, only the local garrisons remained, with no reinforcement from the capital. In fact one of his agents had spied a small column of men moving south from castles near to Maidenpool. It seemed that the Lannisters and Starks were indeed separating their frontlines before engaging in peace talks, and he would drive right into the opening between them. If Crackclaw point could be taken it opened a raft of new options for them.
"The next time we meet, with fortune and the gods on our side, will be in King's Landing."
"Your father's coronation perhaps," she said.
"And yours, of course."
"Don't go putting ideas in a woman's head, Lyonel," she jokingly chided him. "You never know how many of them might take root."
"And I think there are already enough ideas in your head, mother," he replied.
"And all of them are good, so don't go crowding them out." She pulled him into a fierce hug. "Good luck, Lyonel. I love you."
"I love you too, mother."
Myrielle glanced over his shoulder. "I think your sister has words for you."
"I'd expect nothing less."
Shireen approached, his captains and knights looking after her, what had she said to them? Probably asking them to look after him.
Everyone gave the two of them some space as he pulled her into a tight hug, kissing her brow as she wrapped her arms around him and squeezed. "I'm scared Lyonel."
"So am I."
He knew she wouldn't demand that he not go. They were beyond that. But this would never get any easier. "We've got to end this war, Shireen," Lyonel said. "We owe it to the people to end it all. We can't do that here, so I have to go and do it there. End the war, make the Lannisters pay for their betrayal, restore House Baratheon to our rightful place on the throne."
She nodded against his chest. "And then we can prepare for the future."
"Not prepare for it, we will build it. You, me, father, mother. Together, we will build a better future."
"We just have to win first."
"You leave that to me," he smiled down at her. "I'll focus on winning the war, you think about what we need to do once we have taken the iron throne."
She smiled back at him. "Alright then. I'll do that. Perhaps I can even find you a wife?"
He shook his head, smiling. He glanced at Amalia, but she hadn't heard. That would be a difficult conversation to have. Perhaps… no, no time to think about that now. It would be quite an understanding wife to allow him to stay with Amalia, and as Shireen had pointed out, a jilted queen could be the biggest danger to a king.
"Or find yourself a husband," he replied.
"I'm ready. Are you?"
"I suppose I have to be."
She patted his cheek. "Yes you do, Lyonel, yes you do."
He stepped back and looked at each of the three women in his life. "Pray for me, all of you. With fortune, we'll be together again soon."
He turned and marched to his men, the fleet and war.
