The Princess and the Queen 23: Laena III
Viserys stared at Laena, eagerly waiting for a response. His mouth hung slightly open and twisted into a smile. It made him look even more ridiculous than he already was.
Does he truly think this is a good suggestion and that I would appreciate it?
Laena simply groaned and moved her hands to her mouth.
"Do you not think it splendid?" he beamed.
"N-No... what... why..." she spat, shaking her head and looking up at the smooth ceiling. "I... what compelled you to do such a thing?"
Rhaenyra and Daemon compelled him, I'd wager.
"Why not?" Viserys replied, ever as jolly. "The betrothal between Aemon and Visenya was intended to improve ties between you and Rhaenyra."
"And that is what it shall do. So, why is sending our son away to Dragonstone necessary?"
"To build ties even further. As I said earlier, it shall allow him to become more disciplined, and grow close with Rhaenyra's children, as well as know his betrothed better."
"If the aim is to get his acquainted with Visenya, why not have her be warded here, as she is to be a resident when she does marry Aemon?" Laena asked.
"Having Aemon spend some time in Dragonstone shall do him well... he shall be able to get a dragon egg from the Dragonmont, and any disagreements he has with Joffrey or young Viserys shall be quashed!" he explained.
"Who was it that suggested this notion to you?" scoffed Laena, leaning back in her chair.
He just opened his mouth before closing it again and taking a long drink of his wine.
"It is my suggestion, and I do not see as to why you are so against this," replied Viserys, his lie clearer than a summer's day in Dorne.
"Because you would send our son away to that cold island to be raised by a woman who despises me!" protested Laena.
A woman who I despise, too.
"That is why I am doing that," the old man sighed. "Having her raise Aemon shall lead to this enmity you bear for each other to stop, and you to finally find common ground."
He is either too foolish to understand why I am against it, or willingly chooses to not understand.
"Very well, if Aemon is to be warded at Dragonstone, then Visenya is to be warded at King's Landing," said Laena plainly.
"That defeats the purpose of it all, then. It is so Aemon and Visenya can grow up together from young-"
"From young?" repeated Laena. "When do you plan on sending my son off?"
"It was planned that Aemon could go to Dragonstone with Rhaenyra and Daemon when they return there, in a week."
"You wish to send away our six-year-old son to Dragonstone with just a week's warning?" she said, her voice rising to a shout. "And you expect me to agree to this? For him to be a prisoner on that island! I shall not allow this to happen, Viserys, I swear it. As the mother of Aemon, if you even try to rip my son away from me..."
"I am Aemon's father, too, and your husband, and your king," he said, trying to be firm, but only seeming petulant and pathetic.
"Aemon is not leaving King's Landing," Laena bluntly replied, squeezing her fists into a ball so tight she thought she would draw blood.
"Then we have Rhaenyra and her family to return to King's Landing. That way, Aemon can grow familiar with Visenya, and Aemon shall not be sep-"
His sentence was broken by Laena's laughter. She shook her head whilst doing so and felt a tear roll down her cheek.
"Those are the two choices you provide me, is it?" she asked, almost hysterically. "Make my son a hostage of Rhaenyra or have her and her brood return to King's Landing. Truly, I am spoiled for choice!"
"Surely, some other agreement can be made if you are opposed to both," he said. "But it must be quick, since I plan to announce this formally on the morrow, to give enough time for preparations for Aemon's departure."
"Yes, six days is more than enough time, isn't it?" Laena hissed, venom in her words. "Know this, Viserys, Aemon shall not leave this city, and you shall have to pry him from my dead arms if you wish to go through with this."
"Laena, please-" he pleaded as Laena stood up from her seat.
"I am taking my leave," she said, storming out of his chambers and making sure to slam the door as she went.
Outside the bedchamber, Ser Criston Cole and Ser Steffon Darklyn waited outside, either Kingsguard on each side of the door. Ser Criston quickly glanced at Laena before looking away, his green eyes glinting in fury, and his mouth twisted into an angry scowl. Ser Steffon, meanwhile, gave no hint of an expression. Luckily, they were the only two people there to see her.
Though Laena tried to show no sign of weakness in front of her husband (only anger), she could not take it anymore when she was in the hallway. The tears came rolling down as the air became harder to breathe.
She spluttered, wiping away her salty tears with her sleeves, and put her hands to her face whilst she paced back and forth.
I do not want my youngest child to suffer the same fate I did... locked in a castle and in the company of Rhaenyra. But that old husk insists... gods... Gods... they must have abandoned me.
"Your Grace?" whispered Ser Criston, his voice laden with concern.
"C-Come... Ser Criston... walk with me," she spluttered, catching her breath.
Where to?
"Your Grace," he nodded, following her.
As they set off, she quickly wiped away the remaining tears, as well as her nose. She kept her face as still as stone and pulled her sleeves up to cover her hands. The evening breeze was flowing in through windows littered through Maegor's Holdfast, and was a suitable excuse as to why she was shivering slightly.
They passed by numerous servants, courtiers, and other noblemen, who stopped and bowed their heads to Laena as she walked past. Laena ignored every single one of them; her eyes fixated ahead, but her mind was in a million pieces.
It is a new low for my husband... sending away our youngest son without a second thought.
As they rounded a corner and arrived by the stairs, there were finally no others to witness Laena. She then keeled over and breathed in and out heavily, brushing her silver curls away from her eyes. From the corner of her eyes, she spotted Ser Criston almost put out a hand of comfort, before deciding against it.
"Are you well, Your Grace?" Ser Criston instead asked. "Should-"
Laena let her breath return to her before standing up straight and rubbing her eyes one more time.
"I am well, truly," she replied.
"Are you to return to your chambers?" he asked. "I can arrange for Grand Maester Orywle-"
"No, no... I am to go to my parents' chamber," she plainly said, her voice much calmer.
I need their advice now more than anything.
"Very well, Your Grace," he replied, following Laena as she headed off again.
They walked in a sort of amiable silence down the many steps of Maegor's Holdfast, passing people, tapestries, and decorations until they reached the grand doors leading out into the lower bailey. The evening sky was calm, with few clouds dotting the orange and pink sky. The wind blew at her neck, helping to cool her head. As soon as they crossed the dry moat and were in the open, she finally broke the silence.
"You were posted outside of His Grace's chambers for that ordeal, were you not, Ser Criston?" Laena asked, her voice clear and confident but in quiet tones.
"I was, Your Grace," he cautiously replied, keeping his voice equally as hushed.
"And what are your thoughts on what occurred?" she asked.
"It's..."
"What? Are you hesitant to voice your opinion on the matter?" she chuckled. "You swore an oath to guard His Grace; since when do the oaths state that you could not judge him?"
The knight routinely curses the Princess; is it any different to cursing the King?
"I was not hesitating, my Queen," Ser Criston quickly replied. "I think the proposal is farcical, and another clear display of favouritism from His Grace to the wh-Princess. Ripping away little Aemon from you, just as he is beginning to thrive in the yard, it... it upsets me, truly."
Laena just smiled and nodded, as they continued walking up the serpentine steps, with them now side by side so they could converse in whispers.
"I know it is not my place to say this, but His Grace's treatment of you angers me. He turns a blind eye to her constant transgressions, whilst hardly even acknowledging you or the princelings. It awakens a black rage within me whenever I observe it. Sometimes... sometimes I just..." he said, stopping as they nodded at a courtier dressed in blue as they walked through the middle bailey. "Sometimes, I feel as though I might do something I may regret... but seeing what occurs, would I truly regret doing such a thing?"
I would not regret doing such a thing myself... in fact, I yearn for an opportunity to do such a thing.
They walked through the middle bailey, passing the sept and armoury, on the way to the Tower of the Hand, where Laena's parents resided. They had recently relocated their quarters to the tall building, as it would allow for close correspondence with the Hand himself. Laena knew that her father and Otto Hightower still had lingering grudges between each other. Still, their mutual interests did require them to put aside any differences they had to consolidate power among their faction. That being said, those years working towards a common goal had forged a begrudging respect between the two, even if they sometimes disagreed on matters.
Just as it allowed for the Master of Ships and the Hand to easily communicate and plot, it also happened to be where Laenor had his quarters with Lady Alicent, as she preferred to remain close to her father's chambers. Even if Laenor and Alicent had likely not visited each other's bedchambers since their children had been conceived, it was vital for them to make sure the world thought they did, especially for those who might be foolish enough to question Vaegon and Valaena's parentage.
As ludicrous as that is, a member of Rhaenyra's faction may see my dear brother's preferences as an opportunity to do as such.
A household guard clad in black and red armour allowed them access to the tall tower, and they were greeted with the warmth of candlelight and the smell of incense as they did. They passed by tapestries of naval battles, dragons, and acts of coupling as they walked side by side to Laena's parents' chambers.
"How would you suggest that I prevent my Lord Husband from allowing this to happen, then?" Laena asked as they ascended the wooden steps of the tower.
"I am not as adept with words and politicking as you are, Your Grace..." he sighed. "But I would have suggested using reason, and trying to convince him, as you have done many times prior."
"I tried, didn't I?" scoffed Laena. "And he refused to hear. Though, any chance of convincing him is well and truly gone with my conduct, or lack of, earlier."
"Any sane person would react in a similar manner, Your Grace."
"And I should have not lost my patience... something I usually can manage on near every day with His Grace, but it is too late for that," she frowned as they walked down the hallway to her parent's quarters.
Which is why I seek the advice and support of my parents.
The Velaryon guards at the entrance quickly made way for Laena and Ser Criston as they entered the quarters. Ser Criston closed the door behind them and stood post right beside it as Laena went to her parents. They were both sat at the supper table, along with Laenor. All three were in cloths of varying shades of blue, and dressed casually. Their smiles at seeing Laena were quickly wiped off their faces upon seeing her dour expression.
"My dear, what is the issue?" Mother said, standing and walking up to Laena. Her light blue and silver dress made ripples as she walked, and her lilac eyes glinted with concern in the dusky evening light.
It is so easy to just collapse into Mother's arms, as if I was Aemon's age once again... no... I must remain composed; we only have a few hours to decide on a solution.
Laena's thoughts went back to when she was Aemon's age, when she fell off a horse. She held back her tears in front of the master-of-horse and Driftmark's servants, but she released a flood of tears upon seeing her mother. Laena's entire body hurt following the fall, but the comfort and warmth of her mother's arms did.
Mother put her hands on Laena's shoulders and rubbed them slightly, which brought a small smile to her face. Laena then shook her head and smiled before addressing the room.
"It is my Lord Husband, once again," Laena said. "He means to send Aemon away."
"Aemon?" gasped Laenor, his tone angry as he stood. "Why does he mean to do that?"
"He claims that it would teach him some bloody discipline, and has agreed to send him away to live on Dragonstone, commencing from a week's time," she replied.
"A week from now," scoffed Father. "Truly, His Grace has gone mad."
"It reeks of Daemon Targaryen," Mother coldly said, her eyes full of fury.
"And the Princess," Father added. "Does he truly think that you would accept such a ludicrous proposal?"
"He seems to not care for what I have to say on that matter," sighed Laena. "He uses the excuse that he is the King and Aemon is his son to justify it."
"He says that Aemon is his own son!" laughed Mother, forgetting her courtesies. "I do wish my dear cousin would remember that most other times."
Laena made it clear to her parents that Viserys barely seemed to take an interest in Daeron, Baela, and Aemon. The past eight years living in the Red Keep and bearing witness to this resulted in a rift between Mother and Viserys, when they had previously been on relatively cordial terms.
Mother is repulsed by the very sight of him, perhaps even more than I am.
Upon her parent's realisation of this, they made sure to spend as much time with the children as possible, to compensate for their father's disinterest. It would never fill the gap left by that old husk's absence, but it was something.
I could not be more grateful to my parents for that. Daeron, Baela, and Aemon may not have a father, but at least they have a mother, grandparents, and an uncle. Even Ser Criston has aided me in my most trying times. All of them are more worthy parents than Viserys is.
"Have you not tried convincing him otherwise?" Father asked, his tone calm but still with hints of anger.
"I tried," Laena snorted. "But my words fall upon deaf ears... and I lost control of my anger earlier; it is unlike I can change his resolve now, whether or not I even had a bloody chance. I came to you for advice... usually, my words can sway His Grace, but this time... I feel as though it's a losing battle."
"What if... what if..." thought Laenor as he walked to the table and drank an entire cup of wine. "What if Mother can try to convince him? His Grace has always had a grudging respect for you. If Laena could not convince him, mayhaps Mother can try."
"So we would just be telling His Grace that Laena relays all her conversations with him back to us..." sighed Father, shaking his head and tutting. "In that, he would never trust Laena with anything, ever again."
"I cannot think of any other..." grumbled Laenor. "When is His Grace to formalise this?"
"On the morrow, which is why I came to you all now," Laena replied.
"If this was just some days later, mayhaps we could plan something," Father said, gritting his teeth. "Or you would even have the time you convince him not to follow through with this."
"Which is what makes this proposal all the more obscene and inhumane! He constantly moans of how his daughter is deprived of seeing him, yet he wishes to do the same with Aemon and me. I would think the man is blind with how he acts at times."
"Is there truly nothing else we can do?" pleaded Mother, her anger turned to worry.
"Mayhaps... we can turn this to our advantage," Laenor said, his voice showing that he was hardly confident in the suggestion.
"And how do you propose that?" scoffed Laena.'
"No... ignore what I... he's just six..." sighed Laenor, putting his hands on his face.
"Did you not try appealing to His Grace's humanity?" Mother asked. "That his own son would be a hostage on Dragonstone?"
What bloody humanity?
"He refuses to bloody hear it. It's Rhaenyra and Daemon's words coming out of his damned mouth. They knew the betrothal between Aemon and Visenya would put them on the back foot, so they hatch a plan to make my son their prisoner. And if we allow Aemon to go to that island, who can say what shall happen to him?" Laena said. "I do not trust Prince Daemon or Princess Rhaenyra to offer my son an ounce of dignity. I would fear for his safety every minute of the day; I..."
The thought of it made Laena's world start spinning once again. She took a deep breath and composed herself. She then stumbled over to the table to pour herself a cup of wine.
Wine... wine!
"The wine..." realised Laena. "His Grace usually has a nightly glass of hippocras before he sleeps..."
"No, Laena," gasped Laenor, cocking her head in disapproval. "You can't... that is much too far..."
"Much too far? Snatching my son away from me is much too far? I must do something about this; I can't let Aemon be taken away from Dragonstone."
"There must be another; you can't poison..." Laenor whispered. "You can't poison the bloody king!"
"What other solution do you suggest?"
Laenor was without answer and just slumped into his seat.
"How would that even work?" asked Father. "How would... if the King would pass, Rhaenyra..."
"I don't intend for that, just for him to be incapacitated for the time," said Laena, thinking hard about how she would manage to do this.
"They would suspect you, would they not?" Laenor asked. "The timing would be awfully suspicious... with the proposal to send Aemon..."
"If anything, it would drive suspicion away... it would be downright foolish to trigger a change in monarch whilst Rhaenyra is in the city."
"But what of the proposal? They would suspect you, still," replied Laenor nervously.
"The only people who are aware of it are them and us. Our word against theirs. We control the city. We just need His Grace to be incapable for a little over a week. Then we allow Rhaenyra to return to Dragonstone. We show them mercy... they can make accusations, but they do not have any real support in the city, nor did they bring their dragons. Prince Daemon would point his bony fingers, no doubt, but who would truly believe such a thing? Accusing the Queen of something unprovable."
"It is provable, however," interrupted Father. "And does such a poison even exist, and how would you acquire it?"
"There was one; I remember the lessons with the late Maester Gulian all those years ago, back on Driftmark," answered Laena. "A liquid which can make a man sleep for as long as you wish. I am certain Orwyle possesses such a thing."
"And can Orwyle be trusted?"
"That is yet to be seen. But the man has served on the council with us for years. I doubt he has any affinity for Rhaenyra or Prince Daemon by this point."
"Yet his duty to the realm..." Laenor said.
"Again, what other choice do we have?" laughed Laena. "Other than send Aemon away to his death."
"But he's the bloody king..."
"I'd never bend my knee to him, in truth," she scoffed. "It should have been Mother, with you as her heir."
He couldn't help but smile at that but quickly shook his head.
"Is it worth the risk, Laena?"
"Yes, it is," Laena said sternly. "For my son, it is. Would you not do the same for Vaegon or Valaena?"
"I would," he conceded. "Very well... I do not object, not that I have the power to."
"What of you, Mother?" asked Laena, turning to face her. Her face was still as stone, and her eyes stared into nothingness.
"For how he has treated my daughter, poisoning him ten times would still not be enough," she coldly said.
Laena couldn't help but go up to her mother and hug her tightly. The embrace lasted some time until Laena pulled away, tears on her cheeks.
"What I would do without you all, truly," smiled Laena, wiping her cheeks. "That's a bloody weight off my back... at least for some hours, until I must do the blood beard."
Laena then walked up to the table and sat, before breathing a long sigh of relief. She eagerly poured herself a cup of wine and helped herself to a loaf of brown bread and roast aurochs.
"Eating in his presence does ruin my appetite. Gods... we never even had the chance to truly discuss our day, yet," she said, taking a long drink of the wine, changing the subject so she would not ponder over what she would have to do later.
Would the plot even be successful? If Viserys were to accidentally pass...
"You took the children on the dragons, earlier. How did that fair?"
"Aye... Baela still pleads that Moondancer is large enough to mount, but she had to settle with clinging on to my back," beamed Mother. "She did not want to come back down after that, but she did enjoy when I showed them Meleys' lair. We looked to see if she had lain any eggs, but there were none, unfortunately. Neither did Tessarion."
"That is unfortunate. Soon enough, Aemon shall have an egg, I am sure of that," Laenor said warmly, as Laena smiled at her brother in response. "On the topic of the lad, Vaegon did appreciate Aemon's gift the other day."
"Aemon's gift?" Laena asked. It was the first time of hearing of such a thing.
"Aye, the silver necklace with a seahorse engraved onto it. I thought you made the lad do that as an apology."
"No, it seems it was done out of his own volition," chuckled Laena. "I did make him apologise after the incident, but the necklace was all on him."
Some days ago, Aemon and Vaegon had got into a little scuffle following a jape regarding Aemon's lack of egg. Laena promptly made her son apologise whilst also apologising profusely to Laenor, but didn't expect her youngest son to gift his cousin a gift of all things as a gesture of kindness.
And Viserys thinks Aemon needs discipline.
"I am surprised at that, too," Laenor laughed. "Though, it is good to hear. Vaegon even told me of how Aemon helped to fit his armour in the yard earlier."
"We must be united now more than ever," whispered Laena.
Eventually, the conversation shifted to how Lord Darry's youngest daughter had run away with a hedge knight, and then to the feuds between the Blackwoods and the Brackens.
"Speaking of that feud," began Father. "Following a lengthy meeting with Lord Willem Blackwood, we now have Raventree Hall on our side rather than Stone Hedge," he sighed.
"It does not truly matter which of the two are on our side, does it? Since the other would no doubt choose the opposite, as is tradition, of course," Laenor said.
"Of the two, the Brackens were the much-preferred option," Father explained, shaking his head and pouring himself another cup of wine. "Following the Brackens' declaration of support for us, we had recently favoured Stone Hedge in land disputes, and even lowered taxes on grain... with that, their power has boomed whilst Raventree Hall's have waned. I would have us rather keep the Brackens firmly on our side, but it has certainly cost us dearly in the Riverlands. Lord Willem tells me that Amos Bracken travelled up to the Rock to negotiate some deal which resulted in their realignment. What Tyland Lannister offered Amos Bracken, I do not know, but all I know is that we have lost out."
"Likely an offer to make the Brackens Lord Paramount if I had to guess," grimaced Laena. "It is a loss, but we can try and undo all our favours bestowed to the Brackens in favour of the Blackwoods now that the dust has settled."
"We can try, for certain."
"Speaking of," said Laena, standing up from her seat and taking one last drink of wine. "It has been some time. I would rather not arrive at Orwyle's quarters when the hippocras has already been sent for."
Her father then held her hand tightly before setting her off. Laenor nodded solemnly, whilst their mother gave Laena another warm embrace.
"I wish you good fortune in this," she whispered before letting go.
Laena smiled at her family one last time before exiting the room. All of their faces were clearly nervous, and for good reason. Anything could go wrong. Viserys could die, Orwyle could be a traitor, and Aemon would still be sent off to Dragonstone.
She and Ser Criston set off into the darkness of the Red Keep's yard to the rookery back in the lower bailey. The sky was almost black now, and the winds hacked sharply and Laena's neck. It sent shivers down her back, but she didn't know whether that was the cold or her nervousness about what she would do.
"Again, you heard all that was said there, Ser Criston," said Laena, her tones still low even in the emptiness of the Red Keep. "What are your thoughts on this?"
He is loyal to me, but is he loyal enough to allow this?
"My vows state to protect the King; that is the first vow amongst them all," he said nervously. "But..."
"Yet you are not objecting to this, are you?"
"But I also have an oath to the realm, and to you, and Prince Daeron and Princess Baela and Prince Aemon. This... this... what you are about to do, it shall stop the Princess from getting what she desires."
"Are you certain you have no doubts, Ser Criston?" Laena asked, stopping and turning to the knight clad in white. "You swore to keep the King's secrets, but mine also. If you turn and return to your quarters, you are honour-bond to keep any secrets I have, and will play no part in any of this. If anything should happen, you were not present nor complicit. I am not stopping you."
He grimaced and gulped before bowing his head.
"No..." he said before standing up straight. "I wish to accompany you in this. I have a duty to the Seven Kingdoms, too."
"Very well," Laena curtly said as they continued to walk to the Grand Maester's quarters.
The remainder of the walk was done in complete silence. They did not pass by anyone else, and the only sounds heard were Ser Criston's quiet breathing and the sounds of the city off in the distance. Not long after, they arrived at the Grand Maester's chambers. It was one of the taller towers on the city walls, with open windows on the top floor, so ravens could fly out to all of Westeros.
They both climbed the steps of the building, their footsteps echoing against the wooden stairs until they reached Orwyle's chambers. Laena knocked twice on the oak door and waited for a response.
"Come!" shouted a soft voice from within.
The inside of his quarters could only be described as a mess. The tables were filled with open books, various inks, waxes, and parchments. Across another was a collection of glass decanters and cups and pitchers, with various coloured liquids in each. On a wooden shelf was a collection of tiny boxes, all labelled in illegible writing. Another shelf had a collection of herbs, crystals, and powders. Candles lit the room brightly, whilst it smelt somewhat sweet, like berries and honey.
"Ah, Your Grace... I did not expect your appearance..." Orwyle nervously said, bowing his head.
"Yes, Grand Maester," smiled Laena, all pleasant courtesies. "I was inquiring regarding a tea to be made. I do have a mild stomach ache this evening, and sought your remedy."
"I can have one prepared, Your Grace. I do wish you a pleasant recovery," he said, taking herbs from one box and mixing it with a grinder.
"Actually, Grand Maester, have you prepared His Grace's nightly hippocras yet? I am to return to his quarters for another matter. If you have not yet brewed it, I may as well take it with me."
"It is still somewhat earlier than when I usually prepare the hippocras, but as you wish, Your Grace," he smiled as he took two sticks of cinnamon, some cardamom, and sugar and placed them in another bowl.
"His Grace does love the taste of the drink, does he not?" japed Laena as the Grand Maester poured a flagon of wine into the bowl.
"Yes, he does," smiled Orwyle, engrossed in preparing the drink.
As he stirred the contents of the bowl, Laena walked over to the sealed boxes. Ser Criston remained posted in front of the door, moved his hands to his front, and kept his head raised and his eyes alert.
"Back when I was a girl, I remember hearing of a liquid that can send a man to sleep with just a drop," she began.
"Ahhh... sweetsleep... every maester has sweetsleep. It is made from a common plant, and it is extremely effective in treating sleepless nights," he replied.
"And how many drops of this sweetsleep does it take to send a man to sleep? I do distinctly remember that not enough would merely cause a man to feel calm, whilst too much can make a man never wake up."
"Well, a pinch shall send a man to sleep, whilst three or four shall kill him."
"And somewhere in between? I have heard of those sleeps that last weeks, can sweetsleep cause that, too?"
"Aye, mayhaps two drops can cause such a thing," Orwyle replied, still not aware of Laena's implications.
"It's also said that this sweetsleep causes dreamless nights. Does the taker of this remember the night before, or is that clouded by the liquid?"
"Ah, that is an adverse effect of sweetsleep. It can often result in the entire day before ingestion to be clouded and impossible to remember."
Even better.
"That is truly fascinating, Grand Maester," Laena smiled. "Does this sweetsleep have to be diluted, or can it be ingested without the need for another liquid?"
"I would think it can be ingested as is, but I would recommend that it be mixed with another liquid, nonetheless."
"So, I would assume it could be mixed with anything? Be it juice, or wine, or tea," asked Laena, pausing for a moment. "Or hippocras?"
Orwyle instantly stopped what he was doing, almost dropping the flagon of wine. He turned to Laena, his eyes wide in terror and his arms shaking.
"H-Hip... no... no... are you..." he stuttered.
Laena nodded to Ser Criston, who took a step forward, which made Orwyle flinch and drop the wine flagon. Cool red liquid soaked the wooden floor and started to seep through Laena's boots.
"You mean... you wish... to p-poison... poison His Grace?" gasped Orwyle, his breath heavy.
"I have not suggested the sort. I mentioned the sweetsleep, and I mentioned the hippocras. You are the one who understood that," frowned Laena. "But in such, would two drops suffice?"
"Y-Yes... it-it would... but why..."
"His Grace means to send my son away to Dragonstone to be fostered with Rhaenyra Targaryen. He would be a prisoner on the island, and his very life would be forfeit before it even started. Know this, Grand Maester, it is my wish for His Grace to awake from a peaceful sleep once the Princess returns to that island, without my son. That would only happen should you administer the dosage accurately."
"I... understand... but why would I do such a thing?"
"You have served loyally on the council; you are familiar with me, with His Grace, with even the Princess... so tell me this; truly, who would you rather succeed His Grace, for the sake of the realm?" she asked, her tone lower and more threatening.
"The King named his heir, b-but..." he gulped. "The Prince... the Prince... would be..."
"So you understand why you must do this? You are a maester; you serve the realm. What you must do first and foremost is the realm," she said sharply.
"But... poison..." whimpered Orwyle. "I... I can't."
"You can't?" asked Laena. "You are already complicit, Grand Maester. Now that I have told you of what I wish to happen... so you either tell this to His Grace, or you follow through with this. If you choose the former, let us be honest, who would believe you? You come from humble backgrounds, do you know. The child of a Summer Islander merchant and an Oldtown pleasure house worker. You have no family in the city, no allies, your friends are merely colleagues, you would have no protection."
"And I would only have your p-protection if I go through with this?"
"Yes," she replied, smiling slightly. "Your utmost protection, but you must also provide your utmost loyalty, but not to me... but to Prince Daeron."
He sat down and put his head in his hands as tears flooded down his cheeks and onto his grey robes. The Grand Maester glanced at his books and herbs and then out of the window at the city beyond. Then, he finally turned to Laena.
"I shall do it," he sighed, his eyes blood red. "For the realm, I shall do it... for that... and your protection."
Laena simply nodded before breathing a small sigh of relief. Then, she silently thanked all the gods she knew that her plot was successful.
Now, we only need to give my Lord Husband the hippocras and hope he remains asleep for enough time.
When the hippocras was finally prepared, Laena once again offered her thanks and appreciation towards Orwyle before taking the drink to Viserys' chambers himself. Outside of his quarters, Ser Willis Fell now stood guard and nodded at Laena when she entered.
Viserys was still awake when she entered his chambers, in his nightclothes and climbing into his bed.
"Laena," he smiled. "I did not expect you to return after our whole... ordeal earlier."
"I thought to bring you your nightly hippocras," she smiled, gesturing to the flagon of the drink.
"Know that this does not change my decision, but I do appreciate the gesture," Viserys said, happily accepting the drink.
After he was fully tucked into the bed, he unscrewed the lid and took a long gulp of the drink before swallowing. After that, he took another drink of it until the flagon was empty.
Orwyle also said that sweetsleep is the most painless poison there is... that is one thing I rue about it all.
Her thoughts went back to the other poisons in Orwyle's quarters. The friendly Grand Maester also told her about widow's blood, which poisons a man's bowels, and the strangler, which closes a man's throat and chokes him to death, or the tears of Lys, which eat away at a man's insides. He also told Laena about other rarer, more potent, and more painful poisons. All of which he had, but in limited supply.
Someday...
"Ahh... I do appreciate this, as I said earlier," Viserys smiled, his voice already strained and his eyes sleepy. "I do wish you a good night, Laena."
Laena turned and walked to the exit of the room. Before she left, she turned to face her husband one more time.
"Sleep well, Your Grace," she whispered.