RHAENYRA

It would mean death and exile… For you… For her… For the children!

This Tower is haunted.

"I take it this was Maegor's means of monitoring the Hand's loyalty," Rhaenys whispers.

Rhaenyra does not shush her yet, Alicent is pacing far away as Otto attended to business at his desk. She even risks an answer. "I imagine so. Otto did love to stoke fears that Daemon would be a second Maegor."

"He was not alone. But Aemond would be a second Daemon." Rhaenyra pointedly ignores the implication there. Rhaenys continues. "But worse, before you and Laena and children… calmed him down."

"Many a dragonkeeper burn comes from waking a sleeping dragon. I would not count on the permanence of my husband's more recent disposition; not after this."

He would die to get her out if he had to. And not just out of love — out of pride. They need to get out.

"Cloaks," Rhaenyra says. "We need to steal cloaks as well." Rhaenyra would be inconspicuous enough in her casual maternity cloak once she had a scarf over her head. But Rhaenys was still clothed in her expensive riding outfit.

"Good plan."

"And mayhaps we could kill him."

"Rhaenyra I do not think you could reach him around your belly."

"Very well, you kill him. I'll watch. His son has weapons."

"Shh!" Rhaenys says.

Otto has emerged from his office. "Do you have a reason for lingering at such a late hour, daughter?"

"I'm waiting for the view." Otto is silent. Alicent continues. "I know how the Cargylls found Aegon."

"And you've come to scold me?"

"One of them was my own lady-in-waiting! How could you allow this?"

"For the simple reason that the benefits long outweighed the risks."

"It was your enthusiasm for spies that had you removed from court, that rewarded Rhaenyra's misbehaviour with a match to House Velaryon. Do you truly believe we are better off for it?" Rhaenys looks to her, askance. That one night has made many reappearances this week.

"Had I not intervened Aegon would be on a ship to cross the Narrow Sea, and all for naught. We cannot afford to lose a dragonrider during this precarious transition, not while Caraxes still flies free." Rhaenyra's stomach drops at the mention. Which is not a great feeling for a woman with child.

"Is that all my son is to you, now that a better option has come along? Now that I've handed it to you? Just a tool?" Rhaenys looks to her at this. A better option. Proposed by Alicent… she cannot. Her blood turns heavy, and that weight creeps toward her lungs. To her — No. She rubs her stomach, using the breathing exercises the midwife taught her for labour.

"Of course not. We have relied on one another these many years and now it is the good of the family we both desire," Otto says. "Whatever our differences, our hearts remain as one."

"Our hearts were never one. I see that now. Rather I've been a piece that you move about the board. As have my sons." She exchanges looks with Rhaenys. What glaring insight the Dowager Queen has. Twenty years late, and without additional application, but better late than never.

"If that's true then I made you Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. What would you have desired otherwise?" Oh, Daemon had japes about what she would have desired otherwise. Rhaenyra had a different idea. It does not matter which one of us is right. Neither she would act on, and both give her cause to resent you, he'd said. Still, perhaps they'll have their answer one day soon.

"How could I know? I wanted whatever you impressed upon me to want. And now the debt comes due. A debt you are happy enough to pay." A debt Rhaenyra is not in the best disposition to hear. Rhaenys senses as much and clutches her arm. She is unsure if it is a comforting squeeze or a shut up or we die type of squeeze. Probably both.

"A sacrifice made for the stability of the realm," Otto says. "No King has ever lived that hasn't had to forfeit the lives of the few to protect the many. Though I understand your squeamishness. In fact, I am grateful for the creativity it has inspired in you today. Although I doubt Rhaenrya will see our weakness the same way."

Oh good, she has a creative fate.

Breathe.

"Reluctance to murder is not a weakness," says the Dowager Queen.

"All the same, we must be proactive. We cannot have it known she stays against her will, not until the Rogue Prince is dealt with. I've given Lord Beesbury and Ser Westerling some time to consider the situation in private. Perception will matter less and less as time passes. But I suggest we commit our resolve right now to not fall complacent. Wild dragons rarely take to captivity."

Seven Hells. She refuses to turn and see where this ss going. To do so at present ss not survivable. For her, or for…

"My husband would have desired her good treatment."

"Your husband? Or you, his daughter's childhood companion?"

"I have the support of both Aegon and Aemond. We will proceed now as I see fit."

"And how do you see fit, to acquire her husband and trueborn heirs before word spreads?"

"By containing the whispers. We cannot have rogue agents running about, spreading word of the King's demise."

Otto hesitates. "What have you done?"

Alicent ignores him and walks to the window. Rhaenyra cannot see what they're looking at. She and Rhaenys exchange silent I-don't-knows. They must rely on Otto's reaction alone then.

"My, he works quickly."

Whatever he sees, Otto has no further argument. "You look so much like your mother in certain lights."

Alicent does not dignify him with a response beyond a scoff.

They watch the window for some time until the Grandmaester joins them.

"Does no one here sleep?" Rhaenys whispers.

"I'm hoping you come with a response from Prince Daemon?" Otto says.

"Not precisely."

"And what, precisely?"

"Prince Daemon is not on Dragonstone. It seems he left shortly after Princess Rhaenyra did, before he read our message." Rhaenyra has to press her hand to her mouth to smother the cry of relief. "They do not know where, only that he does not intend to come here."

This is news to her. By what lapse in judgement would Daemon leave their children, including two sets of siblings to be married, alone without ensuring their care? Or leaving word of his destination?

"There's more." The Grandmaester does not sound happy. "They've inquired into the whereabouts of Princess Rhaenys. Apparently, they had meant to leave the children under her supervision. Driftmark knows she is not there either."

Otto and Alicent both fidget. Otto motions for Orwyle to proceed. "Additionally… there is a question about one of the children for Princess Rhaenyra, one we need her help to answer. And I doubt she will offer her help."

Otto groans. "No, certainly not."

"The hour is late," Alicent says. "We can delay a response until the morrow and then—"

"And then what?" Otto demands. "Hope Daemon feels the inclination to visit? We cannot go forward with your plan while he lives."

The type of plan Alicent Hightower would see as a mercy.

"Rhaenyra." Rhaenys is whispering to her. Reminding her, begging her, not to lose it. Not yet. Not here. A dragon can hold on to her eggs for many extra a moon should she feel threatened.

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. But her breaths come quicker than they should.

Otto had taken charge during her lapse. "Ready the ravens immediately. To Dragonstone, Driftmark, and any house that may be hosting Daemon. Princess Rhaenyra had a harsh landing; she is too late in her term for riding. She has begun a difficult, unpromising labour and is indisposed and distressed — as is her father. Her good-mother has resolved to attend to her until Prince Daemon and his sons can take her place."

"At once, My Lord." The Grandmaester leaves. There's no hope of intercepting him, she realizes.

"I see you learned your craft from many experts," Rhaenys whispers. Rhaenyra had always assumed that Daemon had been her greatest teacher, but perhaps Rhaenys' words hold truth.

"Of course," Otto continues. "We need a contingency, should word spread before we can execute him."

Alicent sounds tired. "Exile in lieu of death sentence, for capital crimes against the realm? It would free her to marry but does not address her two remaining heirs. Soon to be three."

"I have a better proposal. We have grounds for an annulment. It would also remove the youngest children from the equation."

"They were married with witnesses. Their children indisputably mirror them. By what evidence would you argue illegitimacy?"

He faces away from them, but she can hear his smile. "Do you know what they call Rhaenyra? No longer the Realm's Delight. The Velaryons may name her the Black Queen, but the realm still knows her as the Black Widow. Consuming her mate and discarding him when she's attained all she can. How do you think she came by such a reputation?"

"I do not believe it of Rhaenyra."

"But you believe it of Daemon. You would be correct, and I can prove it."

Rhaenyra does not dare turn to face Rhaenys, but from the corner of her eye she can see the Princess has turned stone.

Alicent does not even hesitate. Does not even try to argue. "What evidence?" she asks. Eager, not challenging.

Otto said Daemon, not the both of us. Alicent would let herself believe anything with the proper motivation.

"Tyland acquired some valuable documents several years ago and foolishly brought the evidence before the King — he burned them right then and there, and ordered him never to speak of the subject again."

"I loved our King… but he had a willful blindness when it came to people he loved. Rhaenyra and Daemon figured this out early… they exploited it… and that exploitation corrupted them both."

"How could it not, when you can do whatever wrong you wish, and yet can do no wrong?"

Someone is certainly bitter that his own license to do as he please expired when he tried to cross Daemon… or me.

For a moment Rhaenyra wonders if Alicent will ask for no elaboration on the evidence, save that there is evidence. Was evidence. Always so quick to believe what she wants to believe. She wonders if that commonality was what drew her father to her.

Unfortunately. someone else is apparently quick to believe what they want to believe. Rhaenyra stands facing the grate, facing Alicent and Otto despite the fact she could not really see their faces. But Rhaenys had turned to face her with her whole body. Rhaenyra crosses her arms.

Alicent decided to go through the motions. "What was the evidence?" Rhaenyra is curious too, she wants to know how talented a liar she is up against.

If Rhaenys doesn't eat me before we escape, that is.

"In his thoroughness, the master-of-ships discovered the log of a freelance Braavosian vessel. It seems they were paid a significant sum to retrieve an unnamed passenger the night Laenor was murdered. They were instructed to anchor far from the coast and out of sight, and to set sail immediately. Both the ship's owner and the unnamed passenger had funds transferred to them via the same patron to the Bank of Braavos."

"No name?"

"Anonymous. But what did escape confidentiality is that the patron was reviled by Braavos — for murdering the Sealord's son." Former Sealord, whose son was beloved by no one. But that is not the point Alicent questions.

"Why an account? Why not a bag of gold and be done with it? And why pay them both as to be linked together?"

"Gold is less traceable, but it's also vulnerable and easily stolen. A smart man whose crime means exile would demand the bank credit. To answer your second question: Daemon is arrogant, Daemon is lazy."

That was enough for Alicent. That was enough for Rhaenys. And Rhaenyra can not speak to dispute the charges while they stay here. Rhaenyra braves one look at Rhaenys.

It matters not if they warn Daemon in time; Rhaenys is going to murder both of them. She didn't even need Meleys, Rhaenyra is pretty sure the Princess would eat them herself. One bite, maybe two. Is this how the sheep feel, Rhaenyra wonders, when Syrax sizes up her meal?

"Rhaenys, h—"

"Do you want to die here? Be quiet."

"How does this help us though? We already knew."

"I've consulted with the Faith and the Grandmaester — to murder a man to take his place, to take his wife… It was one thing when it was speculation but with evidence…"

"That we no longer have."

"We have Lord Tyland's testimony. And we have mine, that he presented me with these documents before I mistakenly told him to show the King. Under Viserys's reign we were forbidden to speak it, but we are now free to testify without fear."

"And this would annul their marriage retroactively? Is that not bending the spirit of the law a little far?"

"All laws were made to bend — it is how we protect them from being broken."

"And no one else need die," Alicent tells herself.

"And no one else need die." Except for Rhaenyra, and Rhaenys if she kills her so loudly as to be discovered.

"And when Daemon refuses to accept this?"

"I'm told Tyraxes and Moondancer are no bigger than horses; archers alone are enough. Arrax, Vermax, and Caraxes are no match for Sunfyre, Dreamfyre, and Vhagar."

"I don't know if Helaena will be much use in a dragonfight, even on Dreamfyre."

"Arrax cannot likely contribute much either."

"So Sunfyre and Vhagar vs. Vermax and Caraxes. Those odds may favour us by size, but not by skill."

"He has but one formidable dragon and a flock of children at his disposal. House Velaryon will not support him alone, not with our evidence. And should he attack, we need only kill him in defence for his whelps to scatter."

Alicent nods. "Very well."

"It's only the contingency plan," Otto reassures her. "I have a score of soldiers on stand-by to greet Daemon. His wife is in labour and his brother distraught, after all." For the first time, Rhaenyra hopes her husband's aversion towards situations of emotion will win out.

They talk formalities for awhile, then Otto makes a quick trip to his office before leaving. Rhaenyra races for the door the second she deems them far enough down the stairs. Rhaenys is right behind her.

"You're going to have to get the keys," she says without looking back. "I cannot reach with two arms and balance in this state. The fourth dragon from the door on the gilded ceiling of the 2nd bedchamber. It twists open."

"We're going to have a conversation," Rhaenys says, ruining the word conversation for Rhaenyra for the rest of her life.

"Do you want to die here?" Rhaenyra reminds her.

Rhaenys prowls away like a predator with affairs to attend to whilst its prey lay dying. Rhaenyra heads to Otto's office in search of gold, disguises, and any useful information. She pockets a few valuable items she hopes won't be missed in case they need to buy passage. Fortunately, the Hand seems to have duplicates of everything. An opened scroll on the desk catches her attention. LIkely the scroll that had inspired such panic in the Greens:

Mother. Do not worry about your wedding ring, Daemon found it on the ship. But the problem I write to you now with is that he abandoned us shortly after you left to who knows where, ranting only something about a medicine and that he'd be back when he got something and to listen to Grandmother, but Grandmother is not here! It's only us and the household and none of us can get Viserys to bed, he won't go to sleep because we can't remember the song you sing to him every night, the one in Valyrian. And he won't stop crying. Please reply as soon as you can or send Grandmother, I don't know what to do.

Rhaenyra did not know you could choke on relief. Daemon knows something was wrong, he knows it involves her father, and he'd given her a way to tell him. He will not fly into their trap. Not by accident at least. The new possibility dawns on her. And the Greens are no Crabfeeder.

But it does grant them time. They can make their way slowly and carefully back to Dragonstone without worry Daemon would be trapped behind them. But we cannot get Syrax and Meleys. She could only pray they wouldn't be killed as retribution.

"I've got it," Rhaenys calls from behind. "Let's go."

For the second time that night, Rhaenyra lets someone lead her to her intended death. She consoles herself with the fact that Rhaenys would be unable to find her way out without her, but there is no speaking for what may come after. At the very least she'd withdraw her support. And what if Rhaenys makes it out without her? Rhaenyra is heavily pregnant, and if they were chased the Princess would surely leave her behind. And Daemon would refuse to defend himself with words.

Certainly, he would keep the promise he made all those years ago, but what if she is not there to ask it? What if Rhaenys is unwilling to hear it?

They'd reached the portion of the tunnels where it was safe to speak again. Rhaenyra beats Rhaenys to the first word. "He speaks falsehoods, Rhaenys. You know this. Even if Daemon were so callous as to murder Laenor, he would not be so stupid as to pay his assassin through the Iron Bank."

Getting the first word had been in vain. Rhaenys opted for the silent treatment. She means a conversation once we're home. When she has her support to withdraw from us, or to use against us.

Rhaenyra's relationship with Rhaenys has been as tumultuous as the sea. It shifts with the tides and is prone to unpredictable storms. But a larger threat now looms; they can continue like this no longer.

Rhaenyra stops. Rhaenys makes it three steps before realizing she was not with her. "What are you doing?" she hisses. "We need to go."

"We're not going any further until you hear what I say and believe it."

"Then we will food for the rats."

"I did not kill Laenor. Do you believe me?"

"I don't know."

"Daemon did not kill Laenor. Do you believe me?"

"No. You lie Rhaenyra. You've always lied. And you're too good at it for me to ever be able to take you at your word."

"What makes you think that, if I'm supposedly such a great liar, how would you even know?"

"You grew up in King's Landing."

Rhaenyra takes a moment. "Any lie I've ever told… had been for the good of my family. Laenor was my family." Rhaenys scoffs at this. She tries again. "You can love someone and not want to fuck them. Most other families in the realm know it well."

"Even if I believe that you believe Daemon had no part, that proves nothing."

"Their evidence is hearsay. No, it's readsay." Daemon would be so disappointed in her wordplay.

"It doesn't matter, Rhaenyra. It might be impossible to prove, but it's also impossible to disprove."

"No, it's not."

"What do you mean?"

"I can prove Daemon didn't pay Qarl through the Iron Bank. And he didn't have him sent to Braavos." There's no going back from this. Daemon had told her as much a thousand times. She wasn't even sure it would improve Rhaenys's opinion of her.

"That means nothing."

But it would ensure her support. She has to. "It means everything. Because we sent them to Volantis."

Rhaenyra and Daemon had fought many an argument over the aftermath of their scheme.

"And tell her what, after all these years? 'Rhaenys, remember when Laenor was slain out of sight? The truth is that after the servant boy left for help, I sprang up from my hiding spot and said, quickly Laenor, take off your shoes! Qarl, help me get this body on the fire! That the guards were but one moment away from finding Laenor hopping on one foot trying desperately to force the too-small boots on, and Qarl and I pouring any liquor we can find on the body that was still clearly not Laenor? There are two options: She doesn't believe us, and the two of us are fucked; or she believes us, and all four of us are fucked."

But Rhaenyra does not share her husband's affinity for telling a true story in the most unbelievable way possible, nor in the way best to incense whoever is listening. She prefers to let others fill in the blanks.

"The dragonback trip we took to Volantis after the wedding, with the children… I had intended for you to be with us. We were to meet Daemon, supposedly still searching for Qarl. Laenor should have landed by then, and we were to meet him and arrange for resources and communications." Maybe even Seasmoke, in the distant future. "Daemon had made some connections through one of Saera's bastards at the Great Council."

"Yes, I was there." Rhaenys was seething, but still refuse to react to her confession. "Stick to what I wish to know."

"We knew you'd be… displeased, but it would be too late for you to speak against us without dishonouring the family."

"So you meant to force my compliance."

"… Essentially. That was when we would announce our intention to marry, and ensure your support."

"Compliance."

"Compliance," Rhaenyra amends.

"So what happened to your grand plans for reconciliation?" Rhaenys's voice drips with condescension and worse, disbelief.

Rhaenyra lets her put it togetherr on her own. She is a smart woman, and had likely pondered the swiftness of their actions many a time over the years. The question of Laenor's survival does not change the answer.

She had not intended to marry Daemon so soon.

She'd returned to Dragonstone after the four of them had laid their plans. While they'd wanted the realm to whisper, they did not want to leave it so unambiguous as to completely alienate House Velaryon. So she'd kept her distance from Daemon and left Laenor on Driftmark. No one thought it strange; they were known to spend more time apart than together.

Daemon was to go through the motions, vow to find Qarl, and fly about Essos for several moons before conceding. It would be expected, Daemon taking action to avoid comforting his grieving family.

But then her blood did not come, her breasts had swelled, and the mornings brought the familiar sickness. For years Rhaenyra had maintained the benefit of the doubt over her son's parentage by citing the combination of their lineage.

The seed is strong, after all. Perhaps it may have slept when passed to Laenor, but my Arryn blood has no doubt woken it once more.

She could not have a blond child with Laenor's name. The less shrewd who knew the rumours would assume this was their first true-born after the death of Ser Harwin. If their shared lineage was indeed capable of siring a child of Targaryen features, what did that mean for the three eldest?

Or worse, they would know it was Daemon's. That they must have had an affair so close to the death of both Velaryons. And Laenor was no longer there to claim paternity.

But a marriage, a hasty marriage out of panic. Daemon, at having to be a father. Rhaenyra, at being alone in the world with the Greens eyeing her position… between two people that had always cared for one another who now had a chance… that was an understandable, if questionable, decision. Enough for the King. Enough for the realm. Enough to at least keep the Velaryons quiet, if agreeability was lost to them.

The whispers would remain whispers, as they'd only intended them to be.

"You got pregnant."

Rhaenyra only nods.

"You got pregnant at my daughter's funeral, by her husband. And then accused Aemond of insulting Laena's memory. Truly a match made in the Seven Hells." She does not elaborate on the match to which she refers.

"I disagree. One action cost Rhaena a dragon and both girls the greatest memento of their mother, the other gained them a mother. How do you think either of them would have faired had I not kept Daemon in Westeros, had he taken them back to Pentos to raise alone? Rhaena, to ignore for her soft disposition, and Baela, to let run ever more wild with his encouragement but without his oversight?"

"You never did let Rhaena claim Seasmoke… I had thought you were saving her for Vermithor." Rhaenys has no counter to Rhaenyra's argument, and follows Rhaenyra further down the tunnel once more.

Rhaenyra is uncertain of how long she need go on for Rhaenys to believe her. So she continues as they made for the exit. "Laenor was so lost. Worse, he was trapped. The gods did not intend for him to live the life you chose for him. It was killing him. And after losing Laena… he couldn't cope."

"After losing Laena… and with her, your license to act out as both of you pleased." Oh, Rhaenys believes her. That was not going to be the problem.

She doesn't believe us, and the two of us are fucked; or she believes us, and all four of us are fucked.

Rhaenys had clearly been letting their past indiscretions stew. "The two of you, your fathers spoiled you. Expected the world of you, taught you to expect the world, yet looked the other way every time you fell short, or chose to fall short. The bastards, the parade of lovers down these tunnels, and yet you never had to fear recourse. Not while your so willingly blind fathers sat their thrones. And presumably not even after — not when you could call on your uncle and sister with the two most fearsome dragons in the world. No one would challenge your claim with them behind you; you could do as you please… But then Laena died."

Rhaenyra quickens her pace, trying to present discomfort as urgency. But Rhaenys takes her arm and brings her to a standstill. She forces her to meet her eyes as she speaks. "So the four of you concocted this childish, selfish scheme. So Laenor could shirk his responsibilities, and so you could finally fuck your uncle."

"So we could live as we choose. So we could love. Who are you to judge how much we had to fight for that choice, when it was offered so freely to you? You may think I've lived a blessed life to have my claim upheld, but no one ever forbade you from loving who you loved."

"I would not have risked destabilizing the realm for it."

"You can never know that for sure. I have many a regret over how I handled things in the past. But I do not regret my children. I donot regret having loved who I loved, loving who I love. And I do not regret freeing Laenor to do the same."

The exit is close, and she pulls Rhaenys back into motion.

"And what of my Lord Husband? What of me? I lost two of my children in the course of a few moons. How could you do this to us? How could Laenor?"

"You wouldn't have let him go." And Rhaenyra was not confident in their ability to lie if they did.

"And after?"

"You didn't want to hear it; I didn't know how to tell you. And Daemon…"

"Daemon didn't want to."

"No. Not until our word would be law."

"So why are you telling me now?"

Rhaenyra does not answer at first; she just leads Rhaenys outside to the view. She'd known they wouldn't be able to take any of the exits into the city, they were too well travelled. So she'd led them to the narrow steps etched into the back of the cliff along the sea. They'll then have to trace the sea along the city to reach the harbour. Potentially through returning partiers, guards, gold cloaks, and smallfolk with a keen eye. Her muscles burn. Her abdomen aches. She will not be able to run.

Rhaenyra points to the harbour in the distance. "Because in my state… I don't know if I'll make it back with you."