The day ended dismally. Rhaenys wanted to have supper alone in her room, but as she imagined the bastards would seize the opportunity and spend the evening with her family again, she forced herself to go to the small dining room where she had felt so happy the day before.

At least the bastards had taken her orders to heart: they weren't in attendance now. Baela was at the table but looked sad and awkward, and Corlys was staring down at his plate at what Rhaenys very much hoped was shame.

"Rhaenys," he murmured as she sat down.

"Grandmother," Baela gave her an uncertain smile.

She gave them a curt nod and sat down to eat, cutting down furiously at the fish in front of her (the page who served them, a frightened-looking pale boy with a Costayne sigil on the doublet, clearly discerned the mood in the room and quickly bolted out of the door as soon as he was done; on another day, Rhaenys would be angry with the disrespect, but now she didn't care).

"Grandmother," Baela said quietly, "there are... we have bad news. Grandfather wanted to tell you, but you, well, you suddenly had a headache."

"Yes?" she snapped and instantly felt sorry. Baela, her favorite granddaughter before the memory loss, was innocent of the mess that Corlys and his whore had created. Trying to swallow her irritation, Rhaenys repeated in a milder tone:

"Yes, what is it... Arrow?" after racking her brains a bit, she recalled the nickname she used to have for her.

"Have you heard of what happened in the Gullet?" Baela asked, her voice tight.

"Uh... no... I think?" Rhaenys said. The girl sighed deeply:

"Rhaenyra wanted to get Viserys and Aegon to Pentos, but the Lysene galleys... they caught up with them."

"Viserys?.." Rhaenys whispered. She was very fond of the clever lad who was a voracious reader and constantly peppered any adult in the vicinity with questions on history and dragonlore.

"Stormcloud was bleeding a river but carried Aegon to Dragonstone. But we never... never knew what became of Viserys. Addam, Jace, Netty, Hugh and Ulf flew at the Lyseni," Baela swallowed. "Jace... he never came back."

Rhaenys felt she was crushed under a lead weight – or falling from the sky on Meleys's back all over again. Jace, darling boy, the pride and joy of House Velaryon – so fit to be a future prince... Why? What had Jace done to merit such an end? Why couldn't the Lyseni aim better? Why hadn't they killed Addam instead?

Because, she knew the answer only too well, Jace was flying a five-year-old adolescent dragon and the bastard was on Seasmoke.

By her side, there was a heavy sigh from Corlys.

"I'm... I just try and find things to get busy with," Baela continued. "We're all being more cheerful and talk more than ever... just to make sure we don't fucking go crazy!"

Rhaenys wordlessly walked over to her and hugged her tight, and Baela responded in kind, tears dropping on her shoulder. Rhaenys's eyes swelled with tears too, as she, over and over, recalled the dear boys whom she'd never see again thanks to this war. First Luke, now Jace and Viserys... The greens would pay for this. Oh, how they would pay.

Let me just claim a dragon again, and I'll show them.

She saw that Corlys joined them, and for once she didn't mind his arms wrapping around her and Baela. She knew he loved Rhaenyra's boys too – he was devastated when Luke was murdered, and she couldn't imagine how dreadful it was for him to lose Jace. At the thought of her sweet grandsons whom she'd never see again, more tears gushed from her eyes.

After they broke apart and silently finished their meal (it had grown cold, so whatever shreds of appetite Rhaenys had left were gone for good), Rhaenys realized Baela said we when she talked about dealing with her grief. But the Queen, Aegon, and Corlys were acting anything but more cheerful... which meant that she was speaking about herself and the bastards.

The filth, it appeared, had wasted no time in ingratiating themselves with her little girl. Probably Addam was scheming to marry her and cement his nonexistent claim to Driftmark.

When the supper ended, Rhaenys made it clear to Corlys she wouldn't be going to his room, and stayed to have a serious talk with Baela.

"Arrow, my sweet child, you should be careful about these dragonseeds," she began, but Baela shook her head so decisively Rhaenys paused.

"Grandmother," Baela stood up straight and looked her in the eye, and Rhaenys was amazed at how similar she looked to her own young self save for the silvery hair. "I know why you shun Addam and Alyn, and I'm not going to argue about that. But I view them as my dear cousins, and I will go on treating them as such. They grieve for Jace too, you know. They were good friends."

Grieve indeed! They must be madly happy Addam's inheritance is more secure! Without Jace, Joffrey will be Rhaenyra's heir to the kingdoms, and unless Baela and Rhaena make their cause for Driftmark, the bastards might grab it and get away with it.

"You are my daughter's child, and you should have Driftmark," Rhaenys said. "I just want you to be safe, that's all."

"So, when I'm sailing on a ship at five, or raising a dragon all by myself, or climbing a tower, I'm safe, but now I'm suddenly at risk because I want to associate with my cousins?" Baela shouted in anger. "I feel perfectly safe, Grandmother, thank you."

She marched towards the door, and Rhaenys, sensing that there was a serious quarrel brewing up, cried:

"Wait! Arrow, please, wait! I have so little family left... I don't want to lose you, too."

Baela looked back.

"I know it's all horribly hard for you," she said. "But, Grandmother, please, don't play me against Addam and Alyn. I won't interfere in... whatever there is between you and Grandfather."

At that moment, Rhaenys knew that if she didn't accept the bastards' friendship with Baela (she sorely hoped it never went beyond friendship), her previous close bond with her granddaughter would be broken for good.

She hated the rabble. The rabble, and the whore who birthed them, and Corlys.

"Agreed," she finally uttered.

"Thank you!" with a small smile, Baela wrapped her in an embrace again.

The next morning, Rhaenys deliberately rose earlier than everyone else and breakfasted by herself. Her head still splitting after yesterday's events – the headache part wasn't entirely a lie, after all – she went for a walk to clear it at least a little.

In the sparring yard, she saw the older bastard practicing with a bow. As he saw her walking past, he immediately put the weapon away and knelt down:

"My princess."

Though she was the one who insisted on them being formal with her, she was annoyed by it. Was he mocking her, or was he simply following her orders to the letter?

Even in her agitated state, she realized that she was probably going to be irritated no matter how the bastards act. Had he given a more curt greeting, she would have been outraged at the impoliteness.

She gathered her wits and tried to calm down and think rationally. The kneeling-down greeting on an ordinary day was supremely annoying, and the bastard was going to get his clothes muddy all the time and force the servants (to whom he would have belonged in a more just world) to waste time cleaning them.

"No need for kneeling," she said. "A bow would be sufficient."

"Yes, my princess," he stood up and bowed. The bloody bastard had already learned to parrot the highborns' manners.

Rhaenys wanted to talk to him about the way they wormed into Baela's good graces, but then she realized he would relay it all to Baela herself, and the girl would never speak to Rhaenys again – so she just acknowledged the corrected greeting with a nod and went forward, not looking at him again.