Serving maid Dyana stood silently at the wooden doors that lead into the Princess Rhaenyra's chambers. She took notice of the young Prince beside her, who hadn't muttered a single word during their entire journey over here. Dyana herself almost became lost on what to do next before Otto's reminder rang in her head.
"My Prince," she called to Aegon and carefully passed the filled serving tray to him, and then immediately knocked on the doors. When hearing the Princess' soft voice of permission, she pushed the doors open and entered with Aegon, who greatly lagged behind.
He hadn't realized he was holding his own breath until he was nearly gasping for it. His eyes quickly found Rhaenyra. Her own stopped him in his steps. They held a deep lavender in comparison to Aegon's light purple. They were like a siren's.
At least he thought so.
"Princess, your brother." Dyana quietly announced before bowing and leaving the two.
Rhaenyra was at a loss for words for the first tense moment. Out of all the visitors to enter her quarter's, she never expected her brother would ever be one of them. And bearing gifts? No way in the Seven Hells did this boy set all this up himself. He looked rather pitiful standing there as still as a statue. He could barely even meet her stare. And he continued to be silent.
The tray's contents just may've been trembling with the boy's hands.
"Oh," the Princess finally broke the odd tension before carefully approaching him. "This is quite the pleasant surprise." Rhaenyra offered a weak smile before accepting the tray of gifts. She carefully placed it on the table near her bed.
Many moons ago she held spite against her younger brother, because he was the boy that her father always wanted. She would avoid him as if he were a plague, filled with bitterness over the fact that the realm preferred him as the heir. She remembered his second name day, and how several lords expected the King to disinherit her in favor of Aegon. And how her father (sternly) reminded them all that she would not be supplanted.
In retrospect she noticed how her father seemed to pay no mind to her younger brother, or any of her siblings for that matter. Mayhaps it's because the maternal instinct in her never faded, but she found her heart going out to Aegon. None of this was his fault, and he was practically being raised with a guillotine over his head. The paranoia caused by the poison that his own mother was pouring into his ears... It was no wonder as to why the boy drank himself silly every day.
Aegon still hadn't found his voice. His eyes filled with terror when scanning his sister's intimate features outlined beneath her dark robe. He suddenly sniffled aggressively before brushing his nose with a hand. Blood came off and it hadn't gone unnoticed by the Princess.
"You're injured," she stated in concern before quickly returning to him.
"It's nothing." were the first words that the Prince finally spoke. Rhaenyra gently took the boy's face in her soft hand to inspect him better. Aegon allowed this. The warm feeling in his gut reignited.
Princess Rhaenyra assumed this was caused by yet another vicious attack from the boy's frigid mother. She wasn't unaware of how tetchy Queen Alicent was toward her own children, and Aegon tended to be the main target of her frustrations.
She didn't care then. But now, Rhaenyra couldn't imagine this. If Aegon had been her child, Alicent would no longer have hands...or her life.
"Come," Rhaenyra instructed and lead him over to her bed. Aegon allowed her to guide him as he took a seat on the soft mattress. Rhaenyra retrieved a small cloth and used it to wipe up the crimson fluid that continued to trickle out of the boy's nostrils.
"To whom do I owe the honor of this charity?" Rhaenyra asked as she delicately cleaned off her brother.
"I.." Aegon started, but he couldn't find it within himself to lie. Not to her. "My...my grandsire." he responded truthfully.
He could feel his sister's hand tense against his face. Rhaenyra sighed inwardly but said nothing. She should've known Ser Otto was behind all this. But again, her brother wasn't to blame. He was merely a pawn in a snake's game.
Rhaenyra then made the bold move of pulling the boy to her chest in a gentle embrace. Aegon stopped breathing again and went limp in her arms. This affection was very foreign, but not unwelcomed. He couldn't recall a time in his life where someone (other than the maids) held him like this. Not even his own mother.
It felt good.
"Is he also the one to strike you earlier?" Rhaenyra questioned. Aegon had no answer to this, but Rhaenyra could easily guess. "I'm sorry you're subjected to this," she was telling him in a tender voice. Her long nails combed through his silver bangs. "You're always welcome here. And you have my protection."
Aegon was still processing her words. The feeling of the Princess' soft bosom, along with elegant scents of lemon intertwined with lavender emitting from her clean body fueled the fire in the Prince's loins. His sights glued to the Princess' cleavage peaking out of the black robe, until he was forced to tear his eyes back to his sister's when she adjusted herself.
"I won't let harm come to you." Rhaenyra promised her brother a final time before standing up.
"Thank you..." Aegon eventually said after standing silent again for too long.
"And thank you for the gifts and company." Rhaenyra reciprocated and began fixing herself. "I suppose I'll need to start dressing myself soon...you may go." she dismissed and Aegon nodded to her before leaving her chambers.
When alone, the Princess turned her attention back to the cakes and wine that were left for her, wondering if she should confront Otto about this herself. But then Ser Harwin Strong would pay her an unexpected visit, and she'd quickly forget about the gifts.
Aegon's pace was slow when leaving his sister's chambers. It gradually quickened when making his way toward his own. He was supposed to return to Otto for briefing, but all that could wait. The Princess Rhaenyra's mystical aura still had its grip around him.
When finally alone he disrobed and perched on his favorite window. The image of his sister's body was still fresh in his mind, her beautiful scent enchanting his senses. He would pleasure himself numerous times before finding the time (and care) to report back to his grandfather.