Rhaenys knelt down, looking into the bright eyes of her three year old children, Elia and Cassian. She held Elia close, planting a tender kiss on her forehead, then did the same for Cassian.
"Be good, my loves," Rhaenys whispered, her voice soft and full of warmth. She ruffled Elia's hair, eliciting a giggle from the little girl, and then tickled Cassian's tiny fingers, making him smile.
Turning to Talya and Lana, she gave them a reassuring nod. "I trust you to keep them safe," she knew they would protect her children as if they were their own.
Talya and Lana, both with gentle smiles, nodded in agreement. "Of course, Princess," Talya said.
Rhaenys gave her children one last lingering look. With a final kiss to each child's forehead, she left. She found Edric waiting for her, as he always did. His presence was a comforting balm, a pillar of strength and support that she had been leaning on ever since the war started. He offered her a warm smile.
"Edric," Rhaenys greeted with a faint smile.
"Princess," he replied. They began walking side by side, their footsteps echoing softly in the hallway. Rhaenys' black gown, worn in mourning for Robert, swayed delicately with her every step, a somber elegance in motion.
She cast a sidelong glance at Edric and noticed the unusual quietness that clung to him. The subtle frown on his face spoke volumes. It had been the night before when she'd shared with him the news her dear cousins had told her, about Aegon's actions—how he had disgraced the memory of their mother by giving away jewelry that had once belonged to her and giving them away to Lyanna's daughters.
"Is he truly that dense?" Edric had inquired with a hint of disbelief.
"He's spoiled and an idiot," Rhaenys had responded, her voice edged with frustration. "Handing over my mother's belongings is one thing, but bestowing them upon that whores children is beyond insulting and disgraceful,"
Edric had probed further, concern etched in his features. "And what are you going to do about it?" he had asked, a puzzled look in his eyes.
"I'll retrieve them, of course," she declared, her resolve unwavering. She walked over to pour herself a glass of wine, but as she lifted it to her lips, the familiar scent of red wine assaulted her senses. With a grimace, she swiftly withdrew the cup.
"Red wine," she muttered with distaste, realizing that over the past few weeks, she had developed an affinity for Dornish wine, the only variety she could now bear.
Suppressing the revulsion, she turned back to Edric, her determination clear in her gaze. "I won't allow Aegon to escape the consequences of disrespecting my mother," she asserted firmly.
"Rhaenys," he began, rising from his seated position with a heavy sigh, "Do you really think provoking Aegon is a good idea?"
Rhaenys shot him a fleeting, fiery glance. "So, what? You expect me to let those girls keep what rightfully belongs to me, to Elia?" Her temper flared quickly.
Edric stepped closer to her, their hands entwining. "No, of course not," he reassured her, his voice gentle. "But it might be wiser to approach your father instead. Tell him about what Aegon did; he can resolve it. There's no need for you to confront Aegon directly," he reasoned.
"I don't want to speak to him," Rhaenys asserted with determination. "I'll handle the matter myself."
Their conversation ended there, and as they continued their journey toward the courtyard, where Obara had mentioned Aegon would be, it was clear that Edric still believed she should have turned to Rhaegar for resolution.
That fool probably knows about what Aegon did, he won't do anything, she thought bitterly.
As Rhaenys and Edric approached the courtyard, the sounds of clashing metal and heated shouts grew more distinct. Rhaenys could have sworn she heard Aegon's voice among the clamor, and her steps quickened, her resolve hardening.
The courtyard came with a balcony that overlooked the ongoing spectacle below. She halted for a moment to take a closer look. Down in the courtyard, Aegon was engaged in a fierce swordfight with someone. The yard was brimming with spectators, some cheering for Aegon, others for his adversary.
To the side, she spotted her uncle Oberyn, his sly grin present as ever, and her cousin Elia, watching the duel with fascination. Among the crowd, she even caught a glimpse of Aemon, her half-brother, his gaze unwavering as he followed the battle.
As Rhaenys was about to descend the stairs to confront Aegon, a prickling sensation crept over her, and she felt the weight of someone's gaze upon her. Turning her attention further down the balcony, her eyes met those of two young girls with striking braided silver hair, they stared at her openly with a mixture of fascination and curiosity.
Her temper flared at the sight of them. So those are the twins.
Visenya and Viserra, there was no mistaking them. They bore the unmistakable Targaryen features, but their Stark features were etched prominently on their faces, much like Aemon. Their very existence was a constant, painful reminder of her father's betrayals and the suffering it had inflicted upon her. Rhaenys had always despised them, and now, their inquisitive stares served only to stoke the embers of her anger.
As she appraised them with her piercing lavender eyes, her gaze caught the glint of something golden adorning their necks. Without hesitation, she began to stride purposefully in their direction.
"Rhaenys," Edric called out, walking quickly to keep pace with her, "Rhaenys, let's not be deterred by them. We'll find a way to handle this with Aegon," he urged in a hushed tone, attempting to steer her away from the disconcerting presence of her half-sisters.
"No," she snapped, her resolve unyielding.
The twins, Visenya and Viserra, stood there, their youthful faces reflecting uncertainty and fear as Rhaenys approached them. But as Rhaenys stood in front of them, her gaze fixed on the necklace Viserra wore — a sun-shaped pendant that could only belong to Elia Martell, the anger inside her intensified, threatening to erupt like a dragon's fiery breath.
Visenya, her voice hesitant, began to greet her, "Sister—"
Before Visenya could finish her sentence, Rhaenys cut her off with a tone that was both cold and cutting. "You may address me as Princess or Lady Rhaenys. 'Sister' is a title reserved for those who share true blood and true loyalties," her words held an icy edge as she continued to glare at the necklace, her lavender eyes blazing with a barely contained fury.
The girls exchanged a nervous glance, perhaps realizing the gravity of the situation.
Visenya's response to Rhaenys' words was a blend of a cold, defiant glare and uncertainty that flickered within her vivid dark eyes.
Rhaenys fixed her gaze intently upon Visenya. Her lavender eyes meticulously roved over the younger girl, searching for any hint of the jewelry that Aegon had bestowed upon her.
And there, at last, Rhaenys found it—a distinctive ring, intricate and delicate, adorning Visenya's finger. It gleamed with a sinister allure, the product of Aegon's idiocy. Rhaenys'. And though Rhaenys didn't recognize the ring, she knew it was her mothers for the cherished ring was the only piece of jewelry Visenya wore.
Realization struck, and Visenya, ever perceptive, sensed Rhaenys' unrelenting gaze upon her hand. Panic flashed in her eyes as she attempted to subtly conceal it, her fingers moving to shield the ring from view. But before she could, Rhaenys reached over and seized Visenya's hand with a harsh grip.
"Where did you get this ring?" Rhaenys demanded, her voice edged with frustration, as she tugged at the ring on Visenya's finger. Her piercing lavender eyes bore into her half-sister, searching for answers.
Visenya, her anger and defiance clear, didn't offer an immediate response. She bit her lower lip, her eyes flashing with resentment and reluctance, but she remained silent.
Rhaenys' patience wore thin, and she continued to pull at the ring. Visenya finally protested, "No, stop!"
With a final, resolute tug, Rhaenys managed to slip the ring off Visenya's finger, her anger fueled by Visenya's lack of response. She held the ring up to the light, scrutinizing it closely.
Rhaenys examined the ring closely, her anger simmering as she discovered the initials engraved on its side, E.M. Her voice, when she finally spoke, was laced with a cold, harsh tone, leaving no room for ambiguity.
"Why are you wearing this ring?" Rhaenys demanded, her words dripping with disdain. "Do you have any idea how insulting it is to my mothers memory that you wear her ring?" Her lavender eyes bore into Visenya with an intensity that could pierce through stone.
The gravity of the situation seemed to dawn on Visenya as she stammered, "I—I didn't know, Rhaenys. Aegon gave it to me. He never told me it was hers," her voice was shaky and Rhaenys saw as Visenya's eyes shifted, she's lying, she knew.
Rhaenys' anger flared, and her words remained cutting, "Liar,"
Rhaenys closed the distance between her and Visenya, her demeanor unwaveringly cold, harsh, and rude. She stared her half-sister down, her voice dripping with contempt. "You have no shame, much like your mother," she accused, her words biting.
As Rhaenys continued to glare at Visenya, a voice cut in, "She said she didn't know, and don't speak about my mother like that,"
Rhaenys, however, had no patience for excuses, and she abruptly let go of Visenya's arm, pivoting to face Viserra with a stern look. The moment she turned her attention to the other twin, Viserra fell silent, realizing the futility of her defense.
Rhaenys didn't hold back. "And what about you, Viserra?" she asked, her voice still sharp and unforgiving. "Why are you wearing her necklace?" Her gaze fell upon the pendant, unmistakably the one that had once belonged to Elia Martell.
Viserra's hand shot up instinctively, clutching the pendant that hung around her neck.
Rhaenys regarded her with a bitter smile, her voice dripping with harshness. "Why are you protecting it like it's yours?" she demanded, her lavender eyes piercing through to Viserra's very core.
"Because it is! Aegon gave it to me. It's mine!" Viserra retorted defiantly, her voice raised with a hint of desperation.
"It wasn't Aegon's to give it away," Rhaenys shot back, her words unyielding. "Now, give it to me." Her demand was clear and unwavering.
But the girl shook her head, her response akin to that of a stubborn child. Rhaenys could see the first glimmer of tears forming in Viserra's eyes, and the sight only fueled her anger further.
"Rhaenys," someone intervened, their hand grabbing her elbow with a plea in their voice. It was Edric, trying to calm the situation.
She snatched her arm away from his grasp, her focus solely on the girl before her. "You will give me the necklace, or I will take it from your dead body," Rhaenys declared, her threat delivered with a chilling conviction.
Viserra gasped, her hand slipping from the necklace, and in that moment, Rhaenys lunged forward, seizing the pendant and wrenching it from the girl's grasp.
The girl cried out in distress.
Rhaenys clutched both the necklace and the ring firmly in her hand, her resolve to confront Aegon unwavering. But before she could make her escape, one of the twins found her voice.
"This necklace belonged to your mother, didn't it?" Visenya sneered, her voice dripping with disdain, "She's dead, the necklace has no ownership,"
Rhaenys' patience snapped, and without thinking, her hand shot out, delivering a resounding slap across Visenya's cheek. The sound echoed through the courtyard, leaving Visenya's face flushed and aghast.
Edric, quick to intervene, reached for Rhaenys, his grip firm but gentle, and he began to guide her away from the twins.
A disgruntled voice called out, "What is this?" Rhaenys immediately recognized it as Aegon's voice, seething with anger. Rhaenys couldn't help but smile.
With a sudden burst of determination, Rhaenys managed to free herself from Edric's grasp. She stood tall and stern, her chin held high, her lavender eyes blazing with defiance as she prepared to face the storm that was her brother, Aegon.
Aegon, his anger palpable, stormed forward, pushing past her. He quickly approached Visenya, who was now cradled in Viserra's arms, still nursing the red mark on her cheek.
"What's going on here?" Aegon demanded, his voice sharp and accusatory, his eyes flickering between Visenya and Rhaenys. "Visenya, are you alright?"
Visenya nodded, her tears still fresh in her eyes. "I'm fine," she whispered, her gaze darting between Rhaenys and Aegon.
Seeing that Visenya was fine, Aegon shifted his attention towards Rhaenys, and the storm of his anger raged fiercely. It was a level of fury that Rhaenys had never witnessed in her brother. So he does have some fire after all.
"What did you do?" Aegon demanded, his voice tinged with contempt, his eyes blazing with rage.
Rhaenys remained steadfast, her tone cool and resolute. "I only came for what was mine," she replied plainly.
Aegon advanced toward her, gesturing angrily to where Visenya stood. "You hit her," he accused, his voice still charged with anger.
Rhaenys met his fury with equal intensity. "She should have watched her tongue," she retorted, her words unapologetic.
Aegon's expression softened slightly, his tone pleading. "She's just a child,"
Rhaenys rolled her eyes, her patience wearing thin. "My children are three years old, and they behave better and are better dressed than those—"
"Perhaps it is you who should watch your tongue," Aegon interrupted, his voice low and dangerous.
Rhaenys glared at him, a fiery retort on the tip of her tongue. But before she could unleash it, Aegon's threat silenced her with its dark intensity.
"Do you think I'm frightened of you?" she finally challenged.
"Touch my sister again, and you'll pay," Aegon warned, his eyes holding a promise of consequences.
As Aegon's words further stoked her anger, Rhaenys felt a surge of frustration coursing through her. Edric's hand moved to rest on the hilt of his sword, ready to intervene if necessary.
Rhaenys advanced purposefully until she was standing squarely before Aegon. In a voice barely above a whisper, she delivered her stern warning, "Give that whore's children any of my mother's belongings again, and I'll have your head on a spike."
Aegon's gaze met hers, his anger still evident but now tempered with understanding. "Is this what this is about? You're angry that I gave them our mother's jewelry?"
Rhaenys's glare remained unwavering as she retorted, "I'm mad that you gave them my mother's jewelry. You had no right."
"She was my mother too," Aegon countered, his voice filled with defiance.
Rhaenys responded with a false look of pity. "You are nothing to Elia Martell," she retorted, her tone dripping with condescension.
Aegon's face twisted with anger. "I am her son, just as much as you are her daughter," he retorted fiercely.
Rhaenys couldn't help but let out a bitter laugh. "You are more of Lyanna's son than Elia's. Don't try to say otherwise, Aegon. It only makes you look desperate,"
They locked eyes, their faces etched with intense emotions, and their lavender eyes bore the weight of their anger and resentment. His eyes are so much like mine, it almost made her want to look away, away from the eyes who had a strange familiarity to her own.
Aegon's voice dropped to a low, cutting tone. "The only one who looks desperate is you," he hissed. "You're the one who laid with the Usurper, bearing his children just to claim the throne,"
Rhaenys' eyes softened momentarily, a glimmer of tears forming before she willed them away. She responded with a false smile that did nothing to hide the sharpness in her words. "And you, dear brother, are so desperate to be seen as Elia's son," she whispered, her voice carrying a hint of mockery. "So desperate to be loved by father,"
Aegon's face fell, wounded by her words, she saw as he struggled to regain a composed expression. He is to be King and he can't even hide his emotions.
Rhaenys continued her verbal assault, her voice unrelenting. "Let me tell you something, sweet brother," she lied, her voice dripping with deceit. "He will never love you, not as long as I live,"
Rhaenys keenly observed Aegon's face, anticipating a storm of anger, but what she found instead was a deeper well of emotions. His expression darkened, not with rage as she had expected, but with a profound sadness. It was not the reaction she had imagined when she uttered those harsh words.
In the depths of his eyes, she saw a surprising truth, an unspoken acknowledgment. I know, they seemed to whisper, a silent admission that cut through the tension.
Her words, meant initially as a taunt, had uncovered a hidden reality. Rhaenys was taken aback by the depth of emotion in Aegon's eyes. Did Rhaegar not love him? The doubt now gnawed at her.
As a heavy silence lingered between Rhaenys and Aegon, it was Viserra who couldn't contain her thoughts any longer. She called out to Aegon, her voice shaky and tearful, "Aegon, aren't you going to do something about what Rhaenys did to Visenya?"
As Viserra's voice pierced the quiet, Rhaenys snapped out of her thoughts and felt irritation once more coursing through her veins as the girl spoke. It seemed to jolt Aegon as well, and their gazes locked, now filled with mutual disdain. The heavy tension in the courtyard was loud and uncomfortable.
Suddenly a voice cut through the tension like a blade. Her uncle and Prince of Dorne emerged from the onlookers, his eyes sharp and his tone demanding. "What happened here?"
Rhaenys, her patience worn thin and her emotions exhausted, turned to Oberyn. Her voice, heavy with boredom, responded, "You should ask your beloved nephew," she stated with a pointed look.
Without another word, Rhaenys turned and walked away, her steps decisive, with Edric following closely behind her. The tension in the courtyard remained as the onlookers tried to make sense of what had just unfolded.
Rhaenys began to make her way toward the nursery, the thought of spending time with her lively children, Elia and Cassian, crossing her mind. However, the weight of the events in the courtyard left her utterly drained and devoid of energy. Her little ones were always brimming with boundless enthusiasm, and she knew she couldn't keep up with them in her current state.
Without a word, Rhaenys gently shut the ornate door to her chambers behind her. She didn't even bother to bid farewell to Edric, who had dutifully followed her. The heavy silence of her chambers welcomed her as she sought to be alone.
Exhausted and drained, Rhaenys slipped out of her shoes, leaving them scattered haphazardly on the floor. Her steps were heavy as she made her way to the inviting embrace of her bed. The soft, silk sheets called to her, and she couldn't resist their allure.
Without hesitation, she laid down, her eyes closing almost immediately as fatigue overcame her. The weight of everything fell down on her, and she fell into a deep, dreamless slumber.
Rhaenys stirred from her sleep, her body slowly awakening as she stretched out beneath the soft covers. However, the soothing quiet of her chambers had been disrupted by voices coming from outside her chamber doors. The sounds of arguing filtered through the door, catching her attention and startling her awake.
Confused and groggy, she listened intently to the voices, trying to discern who was speaking and what they were arguing about.
"She had no right!" one voice exclaimed, the tone filled with agitation and disbelief. It was unmistakably a woman's voice.
"I understand your frustration, but, please, calm down. Storming in there won't help," a familiar voice replied, and it took only a moment for Rhaenys to recognize the gentle cadence of Rhaella's voice. "We agreed that we would only have a conversation with her,"
Rhaenys rose from her bed, just in time to hear Edric's measured response. "Princess Rhaenys has had a long and trying day. It might be best to wait until tomorrow to speak with her," he stated calmly.
"Tiring day?" the unknown voice scoffed, disbelief lacing their words. "If anyone has had a trying day, it's my daughters, who were attacked by Princess Rhaenys."
My daughters.
The realization slowly dawned on her. The voice that was previously unknown was unmistakably Lyanna Stark's. Rhaenys felt a jolt of anger and disgust, deep-seated emotions she had harbored towards the woman for years despite never having met her. It was as though the years of festering hatred had ignited within her, and she seethed with bitterness and excitement at the thought of facing the woman who had caused so much pain to her and her mother.
Her heart raced, and her mind braced for a confrontation she had longed to have.
Rhaenys wasted no time. She marched to the doors of her chambers and flung them open, revealing the unexpected visitors. Her eyes locked onto the face of the woman who had caused her such turmoil, the woman her father had run away with, Lyanna Stark.
As she stood there, her gaze piercing through the bitterness that had simmered for years. Surprisingly, Rhaenys felt a deep disappointment wash over her as she took in the northern woman. They had whispered in her ears for years about the grand beauty that the she-wolf was but Lyanna was no beauty; no great songs would be written about her face. She was a far cry from the regal beauty of Rhaenys' own mother, Elia Martell.
Rhaenys couldn't help but wonder how her father had fallen in love with this woman who paled in comparison to the grace and elegance of her mother, Elia. The years of resentment and anger seemed to boil within her, her jaw clenched as she narrowed her eyes.
Lyanna Stark had a long, solemn face, her eyes bearing a somber shade of dark gray. Her dark hair was pulled back into a simple, unadorned braid that cascaded down. She appeared no different from any other Northern girl, her attire consisting of a plain, unremarkable gown that did little to enhance her appearance.
Lyanna, caught off-guard by Rhaenys' sudden appearance, seemed momentarily shocked and speechless. Her words stuttered, her eyes widened in surprise, and for a brief moment, she seemed at a loss for what to say.
After a moment of silence, Lyanna managed to compose herself, her expression turning serious. "Princess," she finally said, her voice steadying, "we need to talk."
Rhaenys met Lyanna's request with an air of coldness and a hint of disdain. She had spent years nurturing displeasure for this woman, and it showed in her demeanor.
"Well, speak then," Rhaenys retorted, her voice sharp and unforgiving. "I'm listening."
"In private," Lyanna stated firmly.
Rhaenys remained silent, her eyes locked onto the woman before her.
It was Rhaella who interjected, her voice cutting through the tension. "Can we speak in your room?" she suggested, her demeanor cautious, yet a small, reassuring smile graced her lips. Rhaenys couldn't help but feel puzzled by her grandmother's expression. Why is she smiling?
Rhaenys responded with a smile of her own, though hers was laced with mockery. She pretended to contemplate the request, her words dripping with disdain. "I'd rather not have—" she glanced pointedly at Lyanna, "indecent people in my room,"
"Rhaenys," her grandmother's cautionary tone earned a biting reply. "Rhaella," Rhaenys retorted with clear spite.
An uncomfortable silence hung in the air, both Rhaella and Lyanna unsure of how to proceed in the face of the princess's cold resistance.
As Rhaenys prepared to close the door, Lyanna unexpectedly took a step forward, reaching out to prevent her from shutting them out.
Rhaenys shot a withering glare at the dark-haired woman.
"We need to talk," Lyanna reiterated firmly, her voice resolute. "If you'd rather discuss this in the open, fine. It seems you have no qualms about airing private matters in public," she added with a biting tone, alluding to the earlier incident in the courtyard.
"Then speak," Rhaenys responded harshly as she moved forward, positioning herself right under the doorway. This compelled Lyanna to step back slightly, maintaining a respectful distance.
Lyanna gathered herself, her voice filled with anger and determination. "You had no right to touch my daughter," she accused, her words firm and unyielding. "And to take their belongings."
"Perhaps you should have taught them manners," Rhaenys retorted, punctuating her words with a dramatic pause, "and perhaps instill in them some sense of shame. But then again, considering you're their mother, it's challenging for anything born of you to be anything but shameless,"
Rhaella's voice of caution came once more, "Rhaenys," but this time, both Lyanna and Rhaenys chose to ignore her.
Lyanna was resolute. "You can be as angry as you want with me, Princess, but I will not allow you to treat my daughters with such disdain and disrespect,"
Seemingly out of nowhere, Rhaenys abruptly inquired, "Who gave them the necklace and ring?"
Lyanna appeared confused. "What?" she asked, her brows furrowing.
Rhaenys' annoyance was evident as she repeated her question. "Who gave them the necklace and ring?"
"Aegon," Lyanna responded with furrowed eyebrows. "Aegon gave it to them as a gift."
Rhaenys remained eerily calm as she pressed on. "And where did Aegon get it from?"
Lyanna's confusion deepened, and she exchanged a perplexed look with Rhaella, who similarly seemed in the dark.
"I don't know," Lyanna admitted, her voice still calm.
"Did you not think to ask Aegon how he acquired such jewelry?" Rhaenys questioned, her tone laced with mockery.
Lyanna responded with, "That's not the important issue here,"
"But it is," Rhaenys insisted, taking a step closer. This time, Lyanna held her ground, and their eyes locked in a piercing standoff. "These items belonged to my mother," she stated with unwavering determination.
Lyanna appeared stunned, her gray eyes momentarily averting their gaze. She stood in silence for a moment before clearing her throat and meeting Rhaenys's eyes once more.
"I didn't know," Lyanna admitted quietly, "the girls never mentioned it to me,"
"Of course they didn't," Rhaenys replied with irritation.
"I apologize for that," Lyanna offered, her voice tinged with regret. "Aegon should have never given them your mother's jewelry,"
Rhaenys maintained her silence, her expression inscrutable.
"But still, you had no right to hit Visenya," Lyanna's fiery demeanor returned.
"Perhaps so," Rhaenys agreed, a faint smile playing on her lips.
Lyanna's anger flared once more. "Do you take pleasure in this? In humiliating my children," she accused.
"Did you take pleasure in humiliating my mother?" Rhaenys fired back, her intensity surpassing anything she had displayed before, even catching herself off guard. The years of resentment and hurt had finally found a voice, and it resounded in her words.
She could feel the lump in her throat, the tears that began to fill her eyes.
"I—" Lyanna struggled to find the right words.
"You what?" Rhaenys interjected with anger burning in her voice.
"We should go," Rhaella said suddenly, looking worriedly between Lyanna and Rhaenys but she was ignored once again. Rhaenys barely noticed when her grandmother exchanged a worried look with Edric before scurring off.
"I never—" Lyanna began, but Rhaenys cut her off, showing no patience for excuses.
"You never what? You never thought that my mother would be humiliated with Rhaegar running off with you?" she scoffed.
"No," Lyanna hurriedly clarified, "I never—"
"Are you truly that much of an idiot?" Rhaenys lashed out.
Lyanna began to stammer, "I—"
Rhaenys cut her off. "Just keep your mouth closed. Nothing you say will ever justify what you did," she said harshly, her anger unabated.
Edric's soft voice tried to intercede, saying her name gently, but Rhaenys ignored him.
Weakness crept into Rhaenys' legs, her heart raced within her chest, and a heaviness descended upon her eyes.
"Rhaenys," Lyanna's voice sounded concerned.
However, Rhaenys remained silent, her ears ringing as the footsteps in the hall drew nearer.
Edric stepped forward, blocking Lyanna from her view, but his words became muffled, and Rhaenys struggled to discern what he was saying.
In the distance, a shout echoed down the hall. It was a vague sound, and as her legs gave way, Rhaenys collapsed, her eyes closing as she succumbed to her exhaustion.
