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The Almost Queen

Chapter 3

"Mirana Velaryon is dead."

Alyssa's utensils rattled on the floor. A servant hurried to offer her new ones but she didn't even seem to notice. Her face turned white.

"This poor girl," Alysanne said softly.

Joy rose in Rhaenys' breast, as quick as fire, before she realized that it was of no use. She was already wed. Lady Mirana's death would have no bearing over her life. Shame came to her when she realized how cruel she was being. The Lady of Driftmark had never been anything but kind and courteous to her… and yet, there was a little anger as well. Two year, just two years! If she had to die, couldn't she have died two years earlier? Then, Rhaenys would have had a husband who would not have been robbing her, no matter how reluctantly.

She felt someone's eyes on her. When she looked up, Viserys stared back without any trace of good feeling, and the first twinge of concern after the dark words had found them at Dragonstone made its way to her heart.

Still, when he spoke to her, his tone was as polite as ever. "I suppose you won't be willing to come to the funeral?"

Rhaenys shook her head, her hand instinctively going to her belly that had barely started growing round. She had yet to feel the babe move and she did not feel connected to it at all – either it or the act that had led to its creation and that she had lost any pleasure in. But she could not put its life at risk. Not by flying. Not by attending a funeral.

"You had known her for years, didn't you?" Viserys asked.

"I grew up with her children," Rhaenys replied after making sure that no one was paying them any attention. She had given the lady enough disrespect already. "Actually, her eldest son was visiting us at Dragonstone when there was a fever at Driftmark. The three younger children all died. She was never the same afterwards. They say she spent one night without a cloak on a rock against the sea. She got a chill that almost took her life and ruined her health."

It was strange how many things she remembered. In the last years, she had been too wrapped in her love and passion for the lady's husband to think that once, she had been a friend of her lady mother's. But when she looked at Alyssa's white face and Baelon's clenched teeth, she remembered something else. Something that her parents had talked about. Once, many years ago, Mirana Bar Emmon had been Princess Alyssa's companion before they both wed. Baelon had desired her and Alyssa had envied her… no, that had come later… and the thought escaped. But as she spoke, her uncomfortable resentment for the dead woman dissipated, leaving just the memories of her childhood.

At the end, Viserys did not attend the funeral either and Rhaenys felt a faint flicker of contentment. With everyone else at Driftmark, they had the Red Keep for themselves and with so few courtiers left, they could happily forsake the evening feasts and take their meals in their chambers. No matter how intolerable intimacy had become – and Viserys had left her alone as soon as her state was ascertained – this new babe had brought them together a little. They now had something to talk about and their conversations easily stretched to dragons, libraries, future journeys to the North… Rhaenys could feel how the affection from their first days revived… Hope sprang, for the first time. What for? She did not know but she felt it was there. And then, the court returned and this estrangement came anew.

Her blessed state was a good enough reason to avoid returning to the happy home of her childhood where she would now be just the goodaughter of its new master. And still, as her babe grew, she started wondering if it couldn't have been better for her to take her chances with her changed status at Dragonstone, instead of watching how, day after day, the King, Septon Barth, and the Small Council took Viserys to train him in what had been her rights while she had to suffer in the practice hall preparing a good and obedient Queen. She had her social graces, of course, but she had never been expected to spend the entire day with other ladies, stewards, and cooks. She had been trained to be king and queen at the same time and she now felt as if she had been cut in half. Meleys was her greatest comfort and although she could not ride her, she made it to the Dragon Pit almost every day just to be close to her.

In the practice yard of the Red Keep she only found disappointment. Sometimes, she wanted to grab the sword from Viserys' hands and show him how it was done! Resentment would overwhelm her at the sight of the strong male hand that was valued more than her own. Was everything blind? How could anyone think that this was the person who was superior to her in every aspect, more capable to protect the Seven Kingdoms with a sword in his hand than she was? Then, anger at her father rose again: after all, this was who Aemon had chosen to be her consort. Her sword hand, so to say. And the distance would stretch anew, and she would weep herself to sleep in her bed because night brought back the sweet memories of the first weeks of her marriage when life had looked as bright as the sun slowly turning the sea into a vast length of pearly silk for such brief a time.

"Do you want to be miserable, child?" her grandmother would ask and she would shake her head but find herself unable to follow the Queen's instructions.

And so, they lived like helpless insects caught in the amber of time.

Since she became old enough to think of these things, Rhaenys had always expected that her children would be born at Dragonstone; now, the most important lords and ladies in the realm were assembling in King's Landing to welcome her newborn. A son, of course. Everyone expected a son. Her belly was high, so it was a boy, her ladies claimed; her midwives assured her that her lack of health complaints meant that she was carrying a boy possessed of all talents… And no one thought to ask her what she thought. They all believed she was praying for a boy, and she was. Only in a rebel corner of her mind, the thought of a daughter came up again and again and she could not drive away the thought of this most sweet revenge, as much as she told herself that she did not wish for a child of hers to ever suffer the same rejection. And she prayed to the Seven that she would learn to love this child, this son if it was a son because she was terribly scared that she might come to see him as another usurper. She prayed in the sept until her knees could no longer hold her, until her handmaidens had to help her rise.

She was in the sept, praying at the altar of the Mother for a safe delivery, a living child and living mother when she heard the voices. She recognized the male one immediately and blood came to her cheeks. The woman spoke more softly but by Corlys' replies, she could guess what her words were. "No," he was saying. "I am not here to beg the mercy of the Seven for a new union. In fact, I think I'll make at least one more voyage before I consider a new lady for Driftmark."

Soft words, then he again. "No, I don't. I have enough cousins to stay unbothered that my House will perish." A pause. "No. Not yet. My grief for Mirana is too great. Love comes and fades but to have someone waiting for you to return as she spent her life waiting for me – that's a treasure beyond all others."

The woman said something and then shook her head and left. At her turning, Rhaenys saw her profile and recognized her: her aunt Alyssa! But she used to be in love with him, she suddenly realized. That's what I was trying to remember. Father said that she hoped to wed him once, just as I did, but the King and Queen would not hear of it. Fear grasped her at realizing how Alyssa had spent her life – in a marriage where the initial fondness had given up under the weight of a life none of the partners had wished. Is this what will happen to me and Viserys? The thought chilled her to the bones, made the babe stop moving mid-kick.

When they left and Rhaenys followed after a while, she noticed the casket he had laid at the gifting table, open and full of rubies.

As soon as she returned to her chambers, she sat down and penned a hasty note inviting Viserys to come and dine with her. If they didn't want to end up like his parents, they'd better start trying to change things as soon as possible. What better moment to draw him back than now? She might have been cold and reluctant but she was the mother of his child. He would this that into account, she reassured herself as she pressed the seal into the hot wax. But the note was returned unopened; startled, Rhaenys realized that they had grown so apart that she had no idea where he might be.

He did not appear for the evening feast. The next day, even the Queen could not tell her where he might be. But a little before dawn as she lay in her bed, dreading the upcoming birth and feeling the uncomfortable pull of her belly, by now having moved down, she heard the bustle in the halls. It was too early for anyone but the servants to be up and she called her handmaiden. The girl entered immediately, although she rarely rose before sunrise to wait for her mistress to leave the realm of exhausted sleep and this sharpened Rhaenys' realization that something was going on.

"What happened?" she asked and gasped when she heard. How could the Black Dread be no more? He had fascinated and terrified her since she was a child. She had thought that he would outlive all of them like he had outlived the Conqueror. He had looked as powerful as ever just last week!

Without giving herself time to think, she ordered the girl to bring her a cloak. It was cold this early into the morning and she could feel it even in her bedchamber which was generously heated. She padded on silent feet that soon froze down the halls, barely looked at by the servants and greeted with a startled bow when they recognized her. She paid them no attention, focused on the pounding of her heart that was threatening to break her chest.

Viserys sat in front of a roaring fire, so close that the merest extending of his hand forward would drive it straight amidst the flames. He looked at her and then turned his head back without saying anything. Tremors ran down his face, his arms, his body. Not sure if she was welcome or not – why would she be? She had rejected him so many times – Rhaenys sat down next to him and placed his hand on her belly, covering it with hers. He did not release it.

They sat like this for a long time. When Rhaenys made to remove her hand, a very slight grip of his fingers stopped her.