Chapter III - Poisonous Words
54 AC, twenty-fifth day of the eleventh month
The door opened, and a serving girl entered the Chamber of the Painted Table. In this very room, Aegon the Conquerer, having famously carved a map of all of Westeros into the titular table, had plotted his invasion of the Seven Kingdoms with his two sister-wives. Yet now the only one sitting at this massive table was no conquerer, nor was he even a Targaryen.
His name was Androw Farman, the second son of Lord Marq Farman of Fair Isle. His elder brother Franklin was a fierce knight, while Androw was…not much of anything. One would think he would instead earn a maester's chain, yet he could not read. As it turned out, the letters would scramble themselves in his head, and no maester in the Citadel had a remedy for such a condition. His time as a squire was short and ended with him learning little in the art of combat.
Such inhibitions denied him many possible pleasures that would otherwise be available to him on the dreary island of Dragonstone. He was too timid to ride his horse past the fortress's walls, nor did he have the desire to learn how to sail. One would be forgiven for not realizing Androw was the husband of Princess Rhaena, eldest child of the late King Aenys I Targaryen and now elder sister of King Jaehaerys I Targaryen.
As he sat at the large table, fiddling with wooden soldiers of a variety of sigils, the girl, seventeen years of age, set down his lunch.
"Here you are, m'lord," she told Androw as cheerfully as possible. "Roasted chicken with some bread and vegetables."
Androw looked up from his wooden soldiers. "Thank you, would you care to set it down on the table over there? It would be…inappropriate to have anything spill on this magnificent creation."
The girl nodded and set the plate down as Androw slowly got out of his chair. As his lunch and silverware were set out for him, the man of twenty-two years walked nearby to get a bottle of wine and a pair of cups. He went back to the table as the young girl smiled at him.
"Have a good lunch, m'lord." She bowed and turned to leave.
"Actually," Androw said, "would you be willing to share some of this wine with me?"
The girl turned back around, astonished at the offer, and saw Androw Farman sitting down. She thought his face would turn into laughter, revealing his words were a jest, but instead, he gave her a weak yet oddly genuine smile. His face seemed a little puffy, and Androw appeared tired more than anything else.
"M'lord," she stammered, "I'd be happy to."
She went back to the table and pulled out a chair. Androw poured the two cups of wine full as the girl was pulling her chair back in. The nobleman looked at her even as he picked up his silverware. Androw's fork held the roast chicken as his knife sliced an edible piece of it off.
"So," the flaxen-haired Farman began, "may I ask what your name is?"
Still not completely sure this wasn't a jest, the girl felt the only option was to speak to him truthfully and respectfully.
"The name is Verra, m'lord. I've served Princess Rhaena's household for two years now. My father owns a tavern down in the town, The Black Hearth."
Androw swallowed his piece of chicken and reached for his wine cup. "No doubt he was overwhelmed with joy when you were chosen to serve in this castle, where the Targaryens come whenever they tire of other's company."
Verra was slightly perturbed by Androw's sarcasm at the royal family but chose to think little of it and continue to converse. "When the king and queen resided on Dragonstone five years ago, they went down from this castle to mingle with the smallfolk. One night, when I was twelve years old, they visited The Black Hearth, my father saw them enter and mistook them for the children of wealthy Lyseni merchants, who had often rested at his inn."
She felt a smile grow on her face at the memory. "It went on for half an hour. When King Jaehaerys calmly revealed to my father who he was…I had never seen a man's eyes widen so quickly. He fell to his knees and pleaded for their forgiveness, and the smiling king & queen responded by paying for every meal in The Black Hearth."
Verra then drank some of the wine Androw poured for her. Yet while she had hoped to at least make the lord chuckle, his face remained sullen and unamused.
"The people on this rock do love their Targaryens. All one has to do is lay with their silver-haired sibling and tame a dragon, and then this whole island thinks they're holier than the Seven."
The sarcasm and bitterness in his voice was palpable even to Verra, who herself had always been the sort to try and remain pleasant when speaking to others, particularly those of high birth. The best thing she could do was continue to converse with him and provide him with good company.
"Forgive me, Lord Androw, but your wife, the princess, didn't she-"
"-marry her own brother?" Androw snickered. "Yes, and then he got himself killed after giving Rhaena a pair of daughters, and then her younger brother became king instead of her. Now she gets to stay here and become miserable and take out all of her anger on me."
Androw began to ingest the vegetables on his plate, but Verra took a long sip of wine to hide the shock at his words against the royal family.
"Please, m'lord, I wouldn't speak so harshly of your wife. I'm sure she's only upset now that the strange plague has taken away all of her friends."
"Friends? That's one way to put it." Androw set down his utensils and poured more wine into his cup. "If we were to call them 'friends,' then every Lord would be using it to label whichever young women he declares to be his wife and serve as a broodmare."
Verra was shocked at what this man was saying about his wife. Was he saying that she…slept with other women? But that isn't possible, she assured herself, she has two daughters. All women have companions and handmaidens, there's no reason why this case isn't different.
Androw Farman looked at her speechless face. "Don't look too surprised. The princess doesn't think her husband is good for anything. When Rhaena dismissed Ser Merrell Bullock seven months ago, I offered to serve as commander of the castle garrison. She and her friends laughed harder than I ever heard anyone before. And when I offered to accompany her on Dreamfyre when her mother labored with a child, she said I'd fall off the scaly beast. If Elissa hadn't left…"
He took another large swig of his wine, slamming the cup on the table so hard that Verra flinched.
"She was always there to protect me, my older sister. Three years older than me, she was, and even when I grew taller than her, Elissa was always the stronger one. My elder brother, Franklyn that angry idiot, he bullied me, told the other squires on Fair Isle to beat me harder. Said it would 'make a man of me', and he only stopped when Father found out about it."
Androw then smiled, seemingly reminiscing on more pleasant times. "But Elissa would stand up for me, keep me safe from those brats. How she told my brother off for being a brute. She was my only true friend, and I pity her for having been chosen as one of my wife's 'favorites.'"
Verra knew all about what had happened with Elissa Farman, the brave woman from the west who had stolen three dragon eggs. None were supposed to speak of it, yet it was commonly known in the halls of Dragonstone for the disgrace this caused House Targaryen. Even so, Verra thought it was best to try not to mention Elissa's negative qualities to her brother, a lord who was willing to dine with her regardless of their differing stations.
"When Elissa fled this island with the three dragon eggs," Androw continued with the bitterness from earlier reemerging in his voice, "Rhaena alleged I had something to do with it. Even though I begged and pleaded with her not to, no answer of mine would suit her other than what she wanted to hear. She even told me 'the wrong Farman ran away.' And her daughter, that brat Aerea, she was so upset by Elissa leaving that she poured the contents of her chamberpot on my head from a higher floor. Not to mention Rhaena's siblings, the king & queen, have had two children of their own to supplant Aerea as heir to the Iron Throne, which of course has made the girl even more upset at everyone on this island, myself included."
"But one can hardly blame the child, to be honest. Her mother has decided to keep her locked on this island for what seems to be an eternity. She was far happier in King's Landing, but Rhaena won't hear anything about it. Distracting herself with female companions as she ignores Aerea's loneliness. Or at least until recently, she was, what with her handmaidens falling around her."
Every bone in her body was telling Verra to leave the table immediately. But she was too petrified to move a muscle, even as Androw Farman spoke so grimly yet so calmly about the plague that had taken away many of the noble ladies.
"My lord," Verra nervously began, "perhaps you and the princess should reconcile in this time of turmoil and tragedy. She's lonely now and may need your comfort."
"Lady Lianna Velaryon was the last person who could truly comfort her, and she died yesterday," Androw replied. "Mayhaps the gods are punishing Rhaena's cruelty to others by taking away those whom she truly loves."
Needless to say, this did not make Verra feel any calmer in Androw's company. Quite the opposite, in fact. This man seemed to be completely unperturbed by the sudden deaths occurring within the castle he lived in. But who was she to accuse him, a lord, of anything?
"M-my Lord, do you think the gods will strike me with this…affliction?"
Androw had just finished the food on his plate when he turned his face to look at her.
"I wouldn't think so. You're a sweet and gentle girl, willing to listen to a sad second son go on about his woes. Come to think of it, you're one of the only people in the Stone Drum who's been decent to me in the past year. Many of the servants here don't even care to serve me anymore since they don't see a man like me, shall we say, intimidating."
Some of the fear within Verra was replaced with pity for Androw, this man who felt abandoned and abused by everyone he knew. His sister, his wife, and even the servants of the castle.
"I'll, um, speak with the Princess about the servants refusing your commands."
"Good luck," Androw sarcastically replied. "Feel free to leave and resume your duties. I'd best not keep you here too long lest my wife is given yet another reason to scream at me."
Verra stood up and curtsied to Androw, uttering "m'lord" before she took his empty plate & cups, turned around, and began heading for the door to the Chamber of the Painted Table. She felt herself moving faster than usual toward the exit, her heart pounding at the sudden fear she felt regarding Androw's strange words about the plague striking down noblewomen.
"And Verra?"
She turned around, seeing that Androw had called her name.
"Thank you…for listening."
Verra smiled and bowed. "Tis my pleasure, m'lord. Enjoy your evening."
She then departed downstairs, ashamed that she could think so poorly of Androw Farman. He sought her company when no one would spend a minute of their time speaking with him. Lord Androw hadn't even tried to act lustfully towards her as some boys did down near her father's inn.
Perhaps he can speak with Rhaena and go flying with her on her dragon, Verra optimistically thought. She's lonely now, and he can be there when the princess needs him most.
…
It was three days later when Verra had been summoned to the Great Hall of Dragonstone within the Stone Drum, the castle's largest tower and central keep. It was the middle of the day, and she had been cleaning a table within the castle's library when a guard told her that she was to stop whatever she was doing and head to the Great Hall on the orders of Princess Rhaena.
When Verra arrived in the Great Hall, she saw every other servant standing in a mass in the center. The tables had been removed, leaving all of them to look around confused at why they were being summoned.
That question would be answered when the doors to the Great Hall burst open and every servant stared as Princess Rhaena Targaryen stormed into the room and stood in front of them. Her face contained a fury that one would be terrified to see from their parents, let alone a dragonrider.
Yet whatever anger she possessed, her voice did not display it. "If you have not heard yet, the 'plague' that killed the noble ladies in Dragonstone was no illness at all. Androw Farman had slipped a certain poison from Lys into their wine cups and served it to them. They died in the utmost agony because of his cowardly killings."
Dozens of gasps were heard at the grim news. Verra didn't make a sound though, for she was too much in shock. The kind nobleman who invited a commoner girl to drink wine with him was a murderer? What he said how those women deserved to die…oh gods…
Verra put a hand on her mouth, a gesture not unnoticed by Princess Rhaena. She loudly walked up to Verra, catching the girl by surprise and causing her to flinch.
"You! Did you know of this plot? Did he tell you anything?"
"I…I…no…I…"
Her stammering did not amuse Rhaena one bit. "Did you speak with my worm of a husband at all? Tell me the truth lest I believe you to have conspired with him!"
"Please, m'lady, I didn't conspire to do anything!" Verra felt the tears running down her face and her heart beating faster than ever. "I only spoke with him three days ago, he invited me to drink with him whilst he ate the food I served him."
"And what did the two of you discuss? Did Androw confess to his crimes?"
Verra swallowed and took a deep breath so she could fully explain the truth of what happened between them. "He went on about how much he disliked the ladies in the castle, about how he felt unappreciated. But he said nothing about poison. He told me it was a plague sent by the gods to punish those he felt had been cruel to him."
Rhaena wasn't finished with this serving girl yet. "Did he threaten your life to keep his words a secret?"
"No, m'lady. He merely thanked me for listening and said that the gods wouldn't strike me down because I was, as he said, 'sweet and gentle.'"
"So he viewed himself a god, choosing who lived and died," Rhaena coldly stated. "I'm surprised he didn't take you into his bed to put a little bastard inside of you afterward to continue his filthy bloodline."
"My princess," Verra could barely bring herself to speak from shock and horror at the words she was hearing, "he did nothing of the sort. He'll tell you, I'm certain of it. My virtue is intact and carries no murderer's seed."
"Androw won't be telling anyone anything," Rhaena sharply replied. "When I brought my guards to confront him in the Chamber of the Painted Table, the craven jumped from a window to his death. As we speak, Balerion the Black Dread and any other dragon brave enough to approach him is currently feasting on Androw's body."
Verra gasped. Someone whom she had only days prior spoken with, who had told her through deceptive means about his heinous crimes, was now dead. She had been one of the last people to talk to him, and he could have easily put the vile foreign poison in her own wine to end her life as he did to the noblewomen. That he had the decency not to do so to her did little to make her feel better.
"Now tell me," Rhaena said to her, "did he tell you anything of whom he said would die next?"
"He said that Aerea was only a child, and he did not blame her for her anger." Of course, Verra was smart enough to elaborate on why Aerea was angry, being stuck on Dragonstone or losing her position as heir. After all, the man who told her these was now being fed to a dragon, why should she join him?
The princess looked like she was going to yell something at Verra again, and the serving girl flinched in preparation. Then Verra saw Rhaena close her eyes and breathe deeply before opening them to look at her.
"Androw fooled you, just as he did everyone in the castle," Rhaena said, sounding much calmer now than before. "I did not even know it was poison until some foreigner at my brother's court recognized it. The little shit Androw killed two maesters of mine: Culiper through poisoned wine and Anselm mere hours ago through a dagger in the back."
With every word out of the princess's mouth, Verra felt her stomach tie itself further into knots. So much death and misery had been caused on this island because of one man whom she took pity on. If she had told someone of her initial suspicions, Maester Anselm may not have been slain.
Verra got on her two knees and clasped her hands together. "Please, Princess Rhaena, let me beg your forgiveness. I never thought-"
"Get up, you. I'm not going to send you to the silent sisters if that's what your afraid of. If anyone is to blame, it's that bitch Elissa Farman, the one who stole my dragon eggs and left her useless brother here."
Verra looked up with tears in her eyes. "Oh, Seven bless you, Princess Rhaena! Bless you-"
"Yes, you're very grateful, I can see that," Rhaena sharply remarked. The dragonriding princess then turned toward the remaining servants. "The next time you lot suspect any nefarious scheme is occurring within the confines of these castle walls, you will inform me immediately or else be accused of being involved in treasonous plots against House Targaryen. Is that clear?"
The entire staff of Dragonstone, hurriedly nodded at the princess's question.
…
It was five days later, at the start of the final month of the year, when Queen Alysanne landed in Aegon's Garden on her dragon Silverwing, located just outside the Stone Drum. Verra saw her beautiful dragon as it proudly sat in the garden, its scales shining light blue like ice.
More importantly, Verra saw the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms in all her glory. She was not a voluptuous or inhumanly beautiful woman, yet she carried herself with such elegance and grace. Verra saw every servant stare at her like she was the Mother herself, falling to their knees as if the bones had been removed from them.
Of course, Verra did the same, but when Queen Alysanne walked in front of her, the serving girl never could have expected what the queen would say next.
"Verra, isn't it? It has been some time. How is your father?"
Astonished, Verra got up on her feet and looked incredulously at Alysanne. "Your Grace, I…he's doing well, but-"
"Did you not think I would recognize you," the queen asked with a warm smile. "You were twelve years old, cleaning a table at The Black Hearth. Your father was a great host, and I hope to visit his establishment before I return back to my king and our children."
"If I may ask, my queen, how are your two children?"
Alysanne's smile grew, for she loved little more than to talk of her wonderful offspring.
"I would love to tell you, but first, would you be so kind as to walk with me to the Great Hall so I may visit my sister in her time of grief?"
The queen is asking me to escort her, Verra asked herself. Is this a dream that I am set to be cruelly wakened from?
"Of-of course, Your Grace."
She bowed towards Queen Alysanne and walked next to her as they walked across the yard to the Great Hall. It was after several seconds of silence that Verra gained the courage to speak again.
"So, um, if I may ask, how are-"
"The children? Oh, they're wonderful," Alysanne beamed. "Aegon is almost three and loves to run and laugh. Daenerys is almost a year and five months and she's just as happy. The king and I hope to have some more princes and princesses soon."
Verra squealed in delight. "That's wonderful, Your Grace! May the Seven bless them!"
The queen smiled, though her expression suddenly appeared sadder. "How is my sister, the Princess Rhaena?"
They stopped in the hall, and an uneasy silence filled the air. Verra took a deep breath and sighed.
"The loss of her friends was very difficult for her, my Queen. The princess…she won't even hear Androw Farman's name in these halls."
"Well that makes sense," Alysanne replied. "Come now, we're almost at the Great Hall. Whatever she says, I'll make sure you and the others working in Dragonstone's hall will not take the worst of it."
If only she knew of my role in this, Verra solemnly thought to herself. They were at the doors to the Great Hall, which itself was shaped to appear like a dragon laying on its belly. The entrance was shaped like a dragon's mouth, with teeth atop the large red doors in front of Queen Alysanne and herself. The two guards bowed deeply and opened the doors.
As they entered the hall, the few lords & ladies inhabiting the large chamber bowed to the queen out of respect. But as the red doors were closed, Rhaena, sitting on the high platform meant for the most esteemed nobles & royalty to eat from or hear pleas, was glaring at her sister so coldly that one would have mistaken her for Queen Visenya, whose presence was still fresh among the residents of Dragonstone.
"Sister, I see you have come to the island of our ancestors. Now you may leave, hopefully quicker than you came."
Some in the room gasped at such an arrogant display towards the queen. Yet Alysanne retained her calm in addressing her sister.
"Rhaena, I understand you're upset and alone and angry. I didn't want for you to have to deal with this alone. I know what it is to deal with grief, with our brothers Aegon and Viserys-"
"Oh, you do?" Rhaena let out a cold and harsh laugh. "Was it your first husband whose broken body fell to the ground at the Gods Eye against Maegor? Was it your weak excuse of a second husband who let his thieving bitch sister steal our dragon eggs and kill everyone I care about? Was it your dear friends whose bodies writhed in pain and foamed at the mouth as you held them in your arms?"
"Sister, please, I-"
"You, you, it's all about you, isn't it?!" Rhaena's quiet fury had turned into the roar of a dragon before anyone could react. "You lived your happy little life with my baby brother as he sits on our father's throne. And he's kind enough to give you the honor of birthing as many of your offspring as possible. Now you come to play the role of grieving sister, the gentle and kind queen to her cruel older sister, the one who Maegor turned into his whore!"
Alysanne now had her hands up, attempting to calm down what was turning into a volatile familial situation.
"Sister, please, if we can speak in private-"
"If you and Jaehaerys truly cared, he would have come as well, not sent his queen to do his dirty work for him."
"I came of my own accord," Alysanne defended herself as her voice grew louder. "The king is busy selecting a new Hand. Daemon Velaryon resigned from his position when your late friend Lianna, his niece, was poisoned. I wanted to be here to help you recover from your loss."
Rhaena stood up from the throne, which was shaped to have two dragons coiling with each other behind whoever sat in the chair. "I don't want your help or our brother's, and so long as my daughter and I reside here on Dragonstone, I never want to see you on this island again. Do you understand?"
Alysanne's tone reverted back to pleading. "Rhaena, I beseech you-"
"GET OUT!"
The princess stormed out from the high platform and left through a back door. As it slammed shut, an incredibly uncomfortable silence filled the room. Many looked at Queen Alysanne, who maintained her poise even as dozens looked upon her for a reaction.
"I'm sorry you had to witness that," she calmly addressed the onlookers. You may resume your prior activities. I'll deal with my sister, if you're all concerned."
The nobility in the room decided to leave en masse, not planning to return until it would be time to eat. As the queen began to walk toward the back door where Rhaena had left, Verra decided to tell her the truth she was tired of hiding.
"Your Grace," Verra said in a louder tone than intended, "there is something I need to confess to you in private."
Alysanne turned around. "I'm sorry, but if you would be so kind as to let me see my niece Aerea first, I would gladly listen to whatever it is you have to say."
"It concerns Androw Farman, my Queen."
Alysanne's face became concerned. "Follow me so others will not hear what you wish to confide in me."
The queen led Verra through the back door until they reached a secluded corner where no one was near. Once Alysanne made sure it was safe from prying eyes and ears, Verra began to explain everything Androw said to her during their lunch together. She tried to maintain a calm, stoic deposition, but when she reached the part of Androw subtly telling her of his murders, Verra felt the tears come down her cheeks even as she wiped them away. The noble ladies never paid any really attention to her during the three years she served them, but they did not deserve to die so painfully so far away from their homes.
Queen Alysanne's face did not change as Verra laid out her time spent with Androw Farman. She cusped Verra's face in her hands and used her thumbs to gently wipe the tears from the serving girl's eyes.
"Your poor child," the queen gently said, speaking to Verra as is she were twenty years her senior rather than five. "To be told the truth by such a man in such a manner…you were just another one of his victims, if in a different way. It wasn't your fault at all, there was nothing you could have done."
At the queen's words, Verra began to openly sob and hugged Alysanne as tightly as possible. It was to her fortune that Alysanne was a gentle and kind queen, and Verra felt herself be embraced in return. After some seconds of weeping, Verra pulled back and tried to wipe all the tears from her eyes.
"I'm-I'm-I'm sorry that-that I didn't tell any-anyone that-"
"Go to your quarters," the queen said firmly. "Rest now, do no work for the remainder of the evening. If you feel you have some crime to answer for, go to the sept to pray if it would make you feel better. But for now, try and find peace within yourself. Do you understand?"
Verra, sniffling through the tears, nodded.
"Good," Alysanne said with a soft smile. "I'm off to see my niece right now. I do hope to see how you are doing before I leave for the Red Keep, whenever that may be. May you have a good night, Verra."
Verra curtsied whilst trying as best she could to cease her sniffling. "And to you, Your Grace."
Alysanne turned and walked down the hallway. Meanwhile, Verra went out through the door she came and went through Aegon's Garden to the Stone Drum where her quarters were located. As soon as she closed the doors, Verra fell face-first onto her bed and lay there. She had released all the tears within her eyes in front of the queen, so there was nothing left to do except, per Queen Alysanne's orders, try and feel better about the heinous crimes Androw had confessed to committing.
It would not be easy.
...
...
Hey y'all! I'm sorry this doesn't focus too much on Prince Aegon, but I wanted to explore this interesting part of Fire & Blood. So please enjoy and stay tuned for the next chapter!