"I think it's coming again," Shireen mumbled softly. "Yes, it is." She rolled over to the side of the bed, the wet cloth sliding from her damp forehead and hurled another spurt of vomit into the basin held by the servant.
She rolled back onto her pillow once she felt the final mouthful of vomit had left her. "I'm sorry about this," she said to the servant, who came back over with a fresh cloth. "How do I still have anything left to vomit?" She asked no one in particular as the servant put the bown down where Shireen couldn't smell it.
"It's alright Princess, we've all been here," she said, smiling down at her softly.
"Not like this," Shireen gasped as another throb of pain shot through her abdomen. Her thighs, ached to exhaustion, spasmed into contraction at the feeling of it. "I swear by all the gods, no one has ever had them like this."
The servants didn't reply.
"I'm sure you're quite right princess." Shireen raised her head and stared at the door where Amalia stood with a dazzling smile.
"Please don't smile at my pain, Lady Amalia," Shireen said.
"I smile at your company, my princess. For your pain, you have only my sympathies." She walked around to Shireen's bed, stopping by the basin and looking in, wrinkling her nose. "Oh my. That is bad."
"You think that's bad?" Shireen croaked. "You should have seen my sheets this morning. Maesters Cressen and Pylos, my mother and everyone who saw them agreed they'd never seen so much blood."
"You do look very pale," Amalia placed her hand against Shireen's cheek, the backs of her long fingers cool against her flushed skin. "Since they aren't here, I assume you aren't about to die on me?"
Shireen's body tried to laugh then decided it was a bad idea and instead sent a harsh moan hacking up her throat. "Don't make me laugh again."
"As you command, princess," Amalia grinned, holding up a piece of paper. "A peace offering instead."
"What is it?" Shireen asked.
"A letter from your brother."
"Give it to me." She demanded, holding out her hand.
Amalia raised an eyebrow. "Is that such a good idea."
"Give it to me!"
"As you wish."
Shireen snatched the letter out of Amalia's hand and started reading it. She just finished reading the customary greeting at the beginning when her head started to spin. She retched and dropped the letter. The servants rushed forward with the basin but no vomit this time, just a lurching stomach.
"There there," Amalia cooed, rubbing her back softly. When Shireen had recovered and fallen back against the pillow she picked up the pillow. "Shall I read it to you."
"Yes please."
"Very well," Amalia perched herself on the side of Shireen's bed and started to read. "'Your grace, I hope this letter finds you well' and so on and so on, no mention of our names I notice. 'I am pleased to report that my army has seen nothing but victory since my arrival on Crackclaw Point. Every castle has either yielded, already fallen or under siege. The towns open their gates to our arrival and we march freely along country lanes. My scouts have ridden as far south as Duskendale report no response to our invasion from King's Landing. To the north we move ever closer to the border of the Riverlands, yet again without challenge. Any fear I had that the local populace would turn against us have come to naught. The months of training have worked and we extract nothing from the people by force of arms. Every foodstuff is paid for, all accommodation willingly given. I fear that this can only last so long, however. Though this land is not yet ravaged by war, they have been providing supplies to King's Landing and there is precious little left to give. I implore you to send any food that you can. I intend, as soon as is possible, to march on Duskendale, from there to threaten King's Landing more directly, and to open up it's harbours for fishing which should do something to ease our supplies.' And then it's the customary ending to a letter, again, we find ourselves omitted, princess." Amalia smiled down at her.
"Is that it?"
"Yes, why, you were expecting more?"
"Yes," Shireen pushed herself up to more of a sitting position. "We haven't heard from him in weeks, and this is all we get."
"Your ravens are clever, not strong," Amalia pointed out. "They can't carry a full diary with them."
"But he didn't even say how he is," Shireen said, frightened.
Amalia gently pushed Shireen back down to the pillows and she had no strength in her to resist. "I'm sure if he were unwell or injured, he would have said something."
"No, he wouldn't. He wouldn't want to worry me."
"Well he's done that anyway, clearly," Amalia said. "Let's take your mind off it, shall we?" Amalia walked over to Shireen's bedside and picked up a heavy bound book, the covers were ivory with details of old warriors and heroes. "I see you've started the Zamettari," she flicked the strip of silk Shireen had used to mark her place. "Are you enjoying it?"
"I was," Shireen said, "but I can't read now. A letter nearly made me vomit, poetry might kill me."
"Well then aren't you just blessed to have me here," Amalia grinned, "scooch up princess." Shireen slid over to make room for Amalia who settled down beside her. "Ah, book five, a good one," she said softly. She sipped from a glass of water and then began to read. "When the Deghar of Zama, bedecked in his dragonscale coat, receiver the orders of the Octarchs, he made swift oath to see his duty upheld. He and his companions placed their ships in the safeguarding of the Octarchs in return for a train of fine horses from the northern steppes. For it was to the north they would go. The Deghar remembered well the oaths of his father who had never known defeat against the lords of horse, but in fighting them, his city fell to dragonfire. He would journey to the lands of the horselord with sword sheathed and words of praise and friendship on his lips." Shireen closed her eyes and listened as Amalia read to her of the Deghar's journey to the land of the Sarnori Kings, through territory ruled by bandits, giants and shades, defeating each in turn. She had fallen asleep to the soft lull of her voice before the Deghar reached the city.
Pylos kept her in bed for the next three days. Shireen was feeling much better after the first and wanted to go and help her mother, but the maester had none of it. "Princess, you lost a lot of blood. I need you to stay in bed just a little longer while your body more fully recovers."
Shireen had protested, but ultimately given in. Her mother visited her at night to make sure she was okay, and Amalia visited in the day to keep her company. On the second day she brought some new books and Shireen thought it was more poetry, only for Amalia to laugh at the suggestion. "If only, princess. No, this is work, unfortunately the world doesn't stand still when you read poetry."
"What work?" Shireen asked, putting the Zamettari aside. Now she was able to read it for herself again and didn't have anything else to do, she was nearly half way through the thirty eight book epic.
"Apparently someone has been generous with the exiles' accounts," she said with a wry smile. "I'm going through them to see where the problems begin and end."
"What if there is no problem?"
Amalia laughed. "Oh trust me, there's a problem. I just need to find it."
"That sounds difficult."
"The best puzzles are."
"This is a puzzle to you?"
"Of course. It's numbers, and numbers must obey certain rules. One cannot just become two, for instance. And so when you solve the problems in the accounts, everything just fits together. It's a wonderful feeling."
"You've done it before?"
"Yes. One of my father's partners was falling behind on his deliveries of hardwood and horn for Hektorios' crossbow manufacturies. I had a look over his records and found his numbers were wrong."
"That doesn't seem so bad."
Amalia grinned. "According to his reports, he had five ships for transporting goods. Using his ledgers I was able to work out from the amount of goods he was transporting that he could only possibly have three ships."
"Surely you can't just add ships? What would be the purpose?"
"The bigger the account, the easier it is to hide a few false reports. And as for the purpose, if you need to transport a large capacity of goods, would you work with a merchant with three ships, or one with five ships?"
"I see," Shireen said, sitting back. "So what happened to this merchant?"
"We took him to the Magister's court, got our money back, and utterly ruined his reputation. He went out of business the next year. Sold his ships and went into glass blowing instead."
Shireen nodded. "I'll leave you to that, I think."
Amalia laughed. "Probably for the best. Keep reading the Zamettari, I want to talk about it with you when you're done."
When Pylos' mandated bed rest was done, Shireen went back to helping her mother.
"Thank the gods you're back," Myrielle said when Shireen walked through the door of the chamber of the painted table. "I need your help."
"What with, mother?" Shireen was surprised at how urgent her mother sounded. Perhaps now she was used to Shireen's help she was more willing to show how managing this war was getting to her.
"Lady Amalia read you Lyonel's letter, yes?" Shireen nodded. "Good, then I need you to get to work on finding food to support Lyonel's army."
"Where?"
"Anywhere you can find it," her mother said simply. "Fill as many ships as you can and get them ready to depart."
Shireen nodded. "As you command, mother."
"Stop," her mother said as Shireen began to turn. Her mother got to her feet, took several calming breaths and then smiled at Shireen. "You must forgive me, Shireen, this war is straining me. How are you feeling, that was a very heavy bleeding."
"I'm recovered mother. It was hard while it was happening, but it's over now."
"Good," Myrielle said. She came around the table and pulled Shireen into a hug. "Remember to eat well, and drink plenty of water, won't you."
Shireen squeezed her mother back. "I will."
Back in her solar, Shireen sat down at her desk and drummed her fingers on the table. Food. Where would she get food from to feed Lyonel's army? She was about to get up and go and ask, but stopped herself at the last minute. She could do this, she'd spent months helping her mother and serving as Castellan of Storm's End.
And so she got to work. She wrote down where she might find food and only then left to search. She started in the maester's tower. Pylos thought she was there because she'd had problems with her moonblood again and had been shocked when she instead dictated a letter to Storm's End requesting an update on their food stocks and what could be spared to feed Lyonel's army. When that raven was sent, Shireen gathered up her account books and headed out of Dragonstone and down to the markets below. An entire day of haggling and dancing from one merchant to the next and she'd arranged contracts for the shipments of wheat, barley and various meats to be gathered at the harbour by the end of the week. After stopping by the guard posts to ensure her order were gathered and guarded, she moved on to the fishermen. Again, she negotiated purchases of huge numbers of fish, haggling down the price due to the quantity she was dealing with, and signing off on the deals again. It was dark by the time they finished, so Shireen only moved on to the next stage of her negotiations the next day, which was fortunate given that this would be much harder.
She summoned Richard, Lynas and her uncle Rolland to help her. Today, she wouldn't be negotiating with the lower classes, today she had to speak to lords of the Narrow Sea islands and get them to release food supplies. She sent Richard to negotiate with Lord Velaryon, Lynas to Lord Sunglass and Rolland to the Celtigars. The lords of those lands were meaker than most, and she judged that they would not be over offended by the entreaties of knights known to be in her service and related to her by blood. She also tole all three of the knights to highlight her availability for a marriage to loyal and helpful lords, while carefully making no promises to that affect. After that, she herself went to negotiate with Lord Bar Emmon. Ser Aerion Bar Emmon had been in her father's direct service for years, a close companion of her brother, and she knew the lord well and was best suited to negotiate with him.
Whatever her nerves, she had been proven right in her judgements. After an luncheon with Lord Bar Emmon she had agreed on a transfer of barley and root vegetable supplies to Dragonstone. That afternoon, one after the other, Richard, Lynas and Rolland returned with similar success stories.
That evening she presented her successes to her mother.
Her mother read the list Shireen had pulled together carefully, before placing it down on the table and looking up at her. "I tell you to gather food for your brother, and not two sunsets later you have gathered enough food to fill three dozen ships." She smiled coyly. "If I didn't know my own daughter better, I'd wonder if you'd resorted to bribing them with your body to get a result so quickly."
"Never," Shireen said, her face flushing.
"I know, dear, I know, I only tease you."
"I don't like it," Shireen muttered.
"That's why I do it, Shireen, you are so adorable when flushed."
Shireen stood taller. "I'm not adorable any more mother. I am good for more than being placed on a mantle and adored."
"But I will always adore you," Myrielle said softly. "The fact that you were able to achieve this only makes me adore you even more. You have become a remarkable woman, Shireen. Own it, and you could own the world."
"I don't want to own the world. I want peace." Everything else she wanted. A good wife for Lyonel, a good husband for herself. The Iron Throne for her father and recognition of being queen for her mother. All of it would come with peace.
"Well, keep working like this, and we'll have it before long," her mother said. "I have other tasks that need doing, if you have time available."
"I do, for now."
"For now?" Her mother's eyebrow arched.
Shireen swallowed, took a breath and then said what she'd been building up to say. "I'll be going with the supplies."
"I'm sorry?"
"I'll be going with the supplies." She repeated. "I'll take them to Lyonel inform him what there is and the situation here, and get a more detailed update about what has happened on the point."
"Will you?"
"Yes."
"Will you?"
Shireen swallowed again. "Yes."
Myrielle stared at her, daring her to back down. She held her mother's gaze, resisting all urges to look away. Finally, her mother nodded, snapping the tension. "As you wish, on one condition."
"Yes?"
"You will go, you will return swiftly, and you will run at the first sign of danger. I will be ordering your escort to bring you back by force if you get too close to danger. Do you understand?"
She knew that was the best she could hope for. "I do," she said.
"Then when the food has been gathered from Storm's End, the markets and the islands, you will accompany them to see your brother's victories in person."
