Calla

Daemon's funeral was a few days after that ill-fated tourney.

Selyse had been bedridden for the last few days, after witnessing her son's corpse, Aenys had told them. She forced herself to attend, but she looked awful. Calla had never seen her face so pale, her eyes looking so hollow.

Aenys was by her side, their arms linked together. There were dark circles surrounding his eyes. He had been working without pause for the past few days, likely to bury his sorrow. There was nothing that could fill the hole of a son, gone before his time.

...a pain Calla would never get to experience.

Yet life must go on. Calla had gathered a list of knights who would join the Crystal Guard, and Aenys had approved it with a mere glance, seemingly losing interest in this project. Calla could not blame him. It was an impressive show of determination that kept him going.

Aegor had been working hard too, to clean up the mess that was the tourney, arranged this funeral, and many other projects that could not wait. Still, he appeared as firm as ever, the heavy strain he was burdened with unseen on his face. He was the finest steel forged in blood and tears, and no tragedy would shake him the way it did Calla and her siblings. He would only come out stronger, more determined to protect them.

Calla's admiration for her husband started earlier than her love for him. He was the one who protected them and sent them to safety in Tyrosh. He was the one who would stand for their father's cause no matter what. He was the one… who promised to always protect and cherish her during their wedding.

...It was why… Calla wanted to be on his side, no matter what.

Daena held Rohanne in her arms, her black dress fluttering in the wind. Her face was grim, deep sadness embedded in her features. She kept caressing the sobbing Rohanne's hair, trying to ease her daughter's pain. Calla knew that Rohanne was with Daemon when he started coughing blood. It must be a shock to her.

But if the Gods were good she would soon forget that scene. No child should remember witnessing another's death.

Aerion was with them, but he had not met Daena's eyes the whole day. They had some sort of fight, Calla would wager, but for what she did not know. Maybe it was for his apparent lack of sadness for Daemon's death. The expression he held suggested that he was more bored than sad.

Calla held no expectation for him. She would not expect a Targaryen to feel sad for a Blackfyre. But Daena must think differently.

A cleansing fire burned away the small body that had always been engulfed in sickness. There would be no more suffering for innocent children, who should all go to the Heavens.

...The smoke did not reach her eyes, but she still wept silently.

For what? Because he was her nephew, the heir to the Iron Throne? Because she was once again a useless woman who, despite wielding great power, could not save her family?

No, those weren't the true reason.

She wept because he died not at the sharp impact of an arrow or a sword. That he could die without knowing how cruel humans were.

It was a short life. And it was not easy, filled with painful moments. But at least he died knowing everyone loved him, knowing no evil in this world.

She would not tell anyone she felt that. But, she thought, this was a blessing all the same. And for that, she could shed relieved tears and offer him her prayers.

May you be free of suffering in Heaven, dear child.

And give my parents and siblings my greetings, could you?

The duty of the Crystal Guard would be to complement the City Watch in this time of turmoil and rebuilding— in other words, the Gold Cloaks were not enough to maintain the peace of King's Landing while Aenys' project was in full force, most of them going to help with the reallocation instead of taking care of their usual duties. While technically the Crystal Guard were higher rank than the City Watch and could command them, functionally they were nothing but a cheap supplement for the undermanned City Watch.

But Calla could not tell this to the knights that would work under her from now on. The list of knights she had on her hand was not a lot, a mere few hundreds, yet they would wear the cloak she gave them and represent Aenys' will. They had to act as the best of the best and differentiate themselves from the Gold Cloaks.

In this assembly, Calla would set the right path for her knights. They all stood before her, their backs straight, their mouths shut, their eyes locked on her. She saw excitement and admiration the most, but she also saw disdain and ambition. No doubt, some joined not because of her leadership, but to spite it. A woman, a witch, has no place leading a knightly order.

No matter how many people she had killed, no matter what honour Aenys gave her, no matter how fearsome her reputation had become…

Some people would never believe that she deserved to stand here, as their Lady Commander.

Calla would prove them wrong. "My knights!" she called, "From today onwards you will be serving King's Landing. King's Landing is the capital of Westeros, yet corruption has never left this pearl since it was established. No more. You shall be the example of knightly virtues, your heart shall be as clean and clear as my Crystal."

She pulled out the sword and held it over her head. It shone brightly under the sunlight. "You shall take no bribe. You will listen to none but me, your Lady Commander, who represents the king. When you come across a citizen of the city, I expect you to treat them with respect and listen to their concerns. The Gold Cloaks are despised by the city as corrupted thugs. As much as King Aenys has reformed the order since his coronation, there is a stigma attached to them. The Crystal Guard should be different. We will be loved by the city, not hated. As such…"

She forced herself not to sigh. Harsh words must be given, to show this not to be a place for young nobles to pass time. Great House or not, heir or not, this wasn't a job she would allow anyone to slack off. "If anyone is found accepting gifts of any form or visiting brothels, they will be removed from the order and banned from King's Landing for the length of a decade. If anyone hurts an innocent in such a way that it will affect their life until its end, they will be punished in the same way. If anyone kills an innocent… they shall be executed, with the sword I'm holding."

No one would want to test the sharpness of Crystal. When Calla put down the sword, she saw some men, previously excited and eager, were looking much greener. She smiled. "When there is an empty spot in the kingsguard, a knight in the Crystal Guard will be first considered. Additionally, whoever may distinguish themselves will be granted a chance to dine with the king, monthly. Act well and you shall be rewarded. Any questions?"

There were none.

When Aenys had the idea of forming the Crystal Guard, he was dissatisfied with the quality of the Gold Cloaks— while some of the former Golden Company men had stayed and helped with the reform of the City Watch, most of them had returned home. And the culture of corruption was too deep in the Gold Cloaks to be cleared out by changing a few officers.

Which was why the Crystal Guard had to be different. The City Watch was an order under the Master of Law, which existed to enforce the law. The Crystal Guard existed to complete missions that could not be done by the City Watch, and act as reinforcement to the Watch when necessary.

The first mission Calla gave them was to listen and record.

In groups of three, they were to travel the streets of King's Landing and observe. Seek out anyone with a complaint. Each of them had to write an individual report daily.

The citizens of King's Landing would never talk to the Gold Cloaks on their own. But the Crystal Guard was different. They were a group of true knights… at least, they should act as a group of true knights.

That was what Calla tried to enforce onto her knights. They would act as the oaths of knighthood bound them, by the will of the Seven. And through them, trust would be restored between the crown and the city.

It was more or less successful. Not many wanted to talk at first, but with enough effort, they opened up. Calla tried to solve the problems as they came up. Lost children, incidents, arguments… big or small, Calla wanted her knights to help the citizens to solve them.

Two of the knights were most enthusiastic about the work. One man she knew before, one she did not.

They were Ser Titus Peake, brother of the queen, and Ser Garlan Tyrell, Leo Longthorn's son, respectively.

They should, for good reason, dislike each other. Everyone knew that House Peake wished to replace House Tyrell as Lord Paramount of the Reach.

Calla would have none of that. She carefully kept their paths from crossing, and for a while, they seemed to have caused no trouble. But today…

Today, both men came to find her.

"Princess Calla!" Ser Titus found her first one afternoon when she had just taken her meal and was back on the streets. Panting, his face red with anger, he complained, "Ser Garlan Tyrell has disobeyed your order and went into the restricted area!"

Calla raised a brow. "The restricted area?"

"His group entered the Flea Bottom and brought back—"

Calla raised a hand to stop him, feeling an incoming headache. "What was my order regarding Flea Bottom, ser?"

What Peake thought of as a restricted area— that was, the former dragonpit and Flea Bottom. It was not restricted in the sense that one was forbidden to enter; only in that Calla had told them to be careful not to disturb the ongoing construction and reallocation. No one should enter, she ordered, without good reason.

In other words, Tyrell could enter if it was related to his work. Perhaps another lost child?

But before Peake could answer, Calla saw Tyrell… and the people behind him. Around fifty men and women in rags, resentment clear on their knitted brows and scowling lips. Tyrell, in stark contrast, had an ecstatic grin on his face, seemingly exhilarated by this development.

Well, this explained why Peake would want to report to her.

"Ser Garlan." Calla approached the knight with her arm crossed, "What is with this display?"

Tyrell bowed, his eyes gleaming with excitement, "Princess Calla. Those people I met had the same demand, urging for the Crystal Guard to help them. I have heard their pleas and they are indeed in major and urgent trouble."

And you think the best solution is to lead every single of them through the city to find me— Calla wanted to scold him. But no, that would not help the situation. Instead, she sighed, "What is their petition then?"

Tyrell opened his mouth, but the chance to talk was seized by a middle-aged man with his head half bald and clothes full of stain. He kneeled on the stone floor and begged, "Princess, lady knight, please help us! We are chased out of our houses with only our clothes on our back, our belongings thrown away and discarded— we are going to die on the streets at this rate!"

Weeping, the man's fingers clenched into fists, hitting the floor. Calla worried others would follow his example, and helped him up immediately. "Please, there's no need to kneel. It is my duty to help you. Who chased you out?"

At that moment the man's expression changed to one of hatred. "The Gold Cloaks," he hissed.

Calla saw Peake go white, while Tyrell flashed a triumphant grin. So that was it. The Gold Cloaks threw those people out of their homes and destroyed their belongings.

…This was not how it should go. The dragonpit was cleared up for people from Flea Bottom to settle down…

But she had to take care of this now it was brought to her attention. It might just be a misunderstanding, she prayed. "I see. Where are your houses located?"

After a confusing struggle of trying to figure out which section of Flea Bottom they were from, Calla ordered, "Ser Garlan, please take them to Baelor for temporary refuge. Ser Titus, come with me and we shall see their place for ourselves."

Peake's face was still pale, sweat dripping from his forehead. "Your Highness, this is not our—"

"If this is true, we will have to talk to your father. This isn't supposed to happen, and it was no trivial matter. They might not be rich, but they are still part of the city, and they should be protected." Calla glared at him, "Don't tell me you have forgotten about that."

"No, no, of course not," Peake said nervously, his eyes awkwardly glancing around, "but I think, maybe, they are…"

"They are what—" Calla stopped as they reached Flea Bottom. Where it once stood numerous buildings closely packed together were reduced to ruin and debris. But that was not surprising. They could not rebuild the place before breaking it down.

But it was just now Calla understood how serious the issue was.

It was not merely fifty. Not merely a few hundreds. More men than she could count became homeless because of Aenys' plan.

And they were here, eyes red, weapons raised, ready to fight the Gold Cloaks that ruined their lives. If she did nothing, their blood would paint the streets red.

Calla did the only thing she could think of. "Ser Titus. Go find the Lord Hand and tell him what happened."

"Princess…"

"Go!" Calla shouted, and left him behind without looking back. She could not fail this. Those were Aenys' people. This was not a war field and no blood should be shed.

Not for a mere misunderstanding.