Chapter 22
Aemma frowned.
Deep dissatisfaction showing on her face as she studied the clutch of eggs that have been presented to her. First one was white with pearlescent pink, next one was yellow with black, the one after was blue with greenish shade and the last one was turquoise.
There was no red!
"Why have these been brought to me?" Aemma asked the ones present in the room— the dragon keeper, the King'sguard and the Lord Hand Otto Hightower.
"Have I not made it clear the last time, only bring me red eggs if there are any."
Sighing tiredly Otto Hightower rubbing his face. This is the second time Aemma was refusing to choose, first time being right before the birth of the twins. She was given the choice to pick first but she refused with the same excuse— red eggs.
The dragon keeper holding the tray glared at the Princess. Leaving it for the King'sguard to answer to the Princess.
"Unfortunately there has been no red egg in this clutch this time as well."
"Then do not bring them to me! As I said the last time, do not present me these eggs unless there is a red!"
"What is this madness Princess." Her grandsire interjected sharply. "As we stand, taking both fractions into count, you and Lady Rheana are the only two left without a dragon. But at least she's trying. You on the other hand give no effort, nor show a little ounce or desire for one."
"Have I not made it clear I want a red dragon or I shall claim Sunfyre in due time."
"These are dragons Princess, not pigs to choose from to be roasted for supper." Otto sighed again, this time pulling on his beard in frustration after running his fingers through his hair. This family certainly knows how to test his patience. "The two red dragons in existence are already bonded. They have been bonded long before you were born. And so is your next option, Sunfryre. So what do you intend to do? Slay Daemon or Rhaenys Targaryen? Or your brother perhaps."
"I'm young… surely those old folks won't outlive me. And as for my brother, at the rate he drinks, the chances of slipping down the stairs, getting stabbed by thieves, or falling down the window and suddenly dying is highly likely for him. Therefore I am willing to wait and take my chances."
Hopelessly with a simple wave of his hand the Lord Hand dismissed them all; since there is no usefulness to continuing this meaningless discussion.
Alys made it right on time. When she entered the Princess's chamber the young Targaryen was just about to sneak out through the other door. A breath later and she most definitely would have missed the Princess.
Naturally, getting caught by her new handmaiden attempting to sneak away was not something Aemma had in mind when she made the rash decision to meet her betrothed during the hour of the wolf. Yet here she was, standing by the secret door looking dumbfounded at the bastard.
"I dismissed you. Why have you come, Rivers?"
Alys offered a smile "To help you Princess."
"With what?"
"Here, for you." She offered Aemma the bag she brought with her.
Chewing her lower lip Aemma reluctantly accepted. But as she took a peek she was certainly left baffled at what she found.
"It contains a serving girl's attire alongside a page's. Why are you giving me this filth?"
"Before heading out for that little adventure of yours, you must change." with a finger Alys pointed at Aemma's attire. "Revealing yourself will do you no good. Best to be in disguise. And naturally, the other is for your partner." She added the last part with mischievous smile.
The princess paled. Fear now visible on her face, her discomfort no longer concealed. How did this woman know of her plan. Is she being spied upon? Could this woman be an informant of her mother? Is she purposely trying to lead her astray? Questions as such kept storming Aemma's mind.
As if reading her mind, Alys assured her with a smile. "Fear not Princess, I have not yet lost the will to live. Telling on you would cause me to lose my head. And I have no death wish… yet."
"So you won't tell the Queen…?" Aemma confirmed.
"Of course not. Now allow me…" Alys smile broadened as she offered to assist the Princess dressing into her disguise. Aemma frowned, as she couldn't quite interpret the meaning behind the woman's smile. It made her deeply uncomfortable. But for now she chose to subdue the discomforting feeling and reluctantly seek her assistance.
After pulling the Princess's smooth silvery strands into a neatly tied tight bun, Alys put the cap over the head as a finishing touch.
"There you go… pretty servant girl. Make sure not to cross path with your older brother."
"Thank you Alys, you're dismissed."
"Well then, may you have a pleasant flight."
"I am not going dragon riding."
"Goodnight Princess." Was all the older woman said before sauntering away from the younger's chamber.
Disguised as a maid and a page, Aemma and Daeron walked hand in hand, surveying the street of Silk. One looking utterly uneasy and the other looking absolutely at ease.
Daeron was completely against this ridiculous adventure. Tried his best to convince Aemma out of it. But the more he tried to talk her out the more determined she became. Ultimately he was left with no choice other than to give into her whims and follow her into the sinful corner of the city.
It was not a long walk till they found themselves in Cock Inn. Although Daeron was hesitant on ordering anything for consumption at this dirty place, but against his wishes Aemma already ordered a cup of wine. They shared the drink. The romantic aspect of sharing a cup was unknown to them until now.
Soon enough they were up on their feet once again, venturing the establishments nearby.
It was the name that made Aemma abruptly stop in her tracks. Causing her brother to stumble onto her.
"Blue Pearl." Daeron read out loud and wondered, "…what is this—" before he could even finish his query, Aemma dragged him inside grabbing him by the arm.
"Oh it's a brothel." Once inside, he finally realized.
"A place of great education, says Aegon." Aemma added, with a cheeky grin.
Daeron rolled his eyes. "Of course he would say that."
"Our eldest brother learned everything about the ways of pleasure and flesh from here. He even brought Aemond. Apparently the madame running this establishment is very skilled at this art. Her name is Sylvi." Aemma elaborated as they leisurely walked around watching people engage in pleasure in couples… in trios and even in groups.
"And tonight we shall educate ourselves on such knowledge."
They stopped to watch a man who was seeking pleasure from two whores out in the open— one (the redhead) was sucking his cock while he sucked the others (brunette's) tits.
"So…" Daeron drawls, eyes stuck on the dirty scene unfolding before them "… is it safe to assume you will pay the coins for me to bed a whore!"
"Absolutely not!" Aemma hissed stomping on his foot not once but three times, making sure he is aware of her standing on the matter. "We're here to spectate and that is all we shall do."
"Oh!"
"You sound disappointed." Aemma glared.
"No I'm not."
"Just so we are clear… if I am to ever find you at a brothel, I will have you executed." Getting no response to her statement she turned but found some strange beside her, not her betrothed.
Instantly she panicked.
Meanwhile Daeron was also relentlessly searching for Aemma. He wasn't intending on losing her here of all places but was pushed away by a man twice his size and then lost his way.
He called her, yelling her name at the top of his lungs but no response came. Frantically looking around here and there searching in every direction he could in short time but there was no sign of Aemma. Like she had disappeared into the thin air.
However Daeron was well aware of the gravity of the situation. He understood how dangerous it is for Aemma to get lost in such sinful place, where danger lurks in every corner. In addition to that, he also knew in facing danger at such place, he alone wouldn't be enough. Force is an absolute must. Therefore without wasting further time he ran back to the Red Keep in order to return with a battalion of search party.
Aemma on the other hand, after a while of searching for her brother, suddenly noticed a rugged looking man strangely gazing her way. His eyes scanning her form from top to bottom. Occasionally darting and licking his lips. Like he was savouring her taste. The disgusting gesture made Aemma sick to her stomach. Immediately she felt rage bubbling inside her, rage that was directed towards the idiot that was her betrothed. However, for the time being she decided to channel that energy elsewhere. Daeron can be dealt with later. First she must get out of here.
So in order to intimidate the man, Aemma stared back. Regrettably the plan massively backfired. The man in question picked up his cup of wine, finished it in one long sip, wiped his mouth with a hand before closing the gap between them in quick strides.
He offered Aemma some coins. Least bothered by the perplexed expression on her face. At first Aemma was confused before realization settled in— what the man took her for. Insulted by the very notion, the Princess's expression morphed into that of unriddled rage.
"Not enough?" The man tried bargaining. "Fine! For that fair face I don't mind spending more." He added few more coins.
"I am no whore!" Aemma exclaimed. It completely left her mind that she came to this brothel disguised as a maid.
"Even better. I have always wanted fuck those pretty maids working at the Keep." The man took a step making Aemma take a back step.
Her hands molded into fists, desperately clutching onto the fabric of her skirt.
"I am Princess Aemma, the King's youngest daughter you imbecile! And if I so desire, I could have you beheaded before sunrise."
Her threat went futile as the man did not believe a word of what she just spilled.
"Is that a game of pretence we're playing then. Alright lass, if you're the Princess then I am the King himself. After all you Targaryens enjoy fucking your own blood." Having said that the man burst into a series of laughter.
Aemma glared at him with such vitriol that if he were sober he would have cowered away. But alas he was far to drunk to notice the Princess's glare nor take her words seriously.
He continued laughing in a state of maniacal frenzy, only pausing to announce.
"Friends! Tonight I'm fucking this servant of the crown."
Hearing that Aemma's blood ran cold. It was in that moment the Princess realized what kind of danger she was truly in.
In the Red Keep; inside the tower of the Hand.
With bis hands crossed behind his back Otto Hightower stood beside Lord commander Harold Westerling, who was barking orders at the white-cloaks instructing them on the directions to take and territories which needs to be covered to rescue the Princess.
On the other end of the same chamber Alicent stood with her youngest son; whom she does not even give him the chance to craft a defence for himself, glaring at him with such venomous glare right before she gave him the hardest slap mastering all the strength her body could gather.
Clutching the side of the slapped face Daeron looked back at his mother. The slap was certainly not unexpected.
"You took her to a pleasure house?!" Alicent accused, making Daeron flinch. "Who do you take yourself for… Daemon Targaryen? If you do admire him, then do it so the way Aemond does. Aspire to be a strong warrior, a skilled swordman and fierce dragon rider as he is. Do not follow him for his depravity."
"Mother I didn't wish to go." Daeron tried to defend himself. "It was Aemma's idea. I tried to stop her, she wouldn't listen."
"Do you realize what you have done?"
"You abandoned your sister… your betrothed… at a pleasure house. You left her, a child, to fend for herself amongst countless drunken hungry depraved men. They are probably tearing her apart and gobbling up her remains as we speak here!"
"I came to seek help. I alone am not enough to find her in a vast establishment mother!"
"Have you no shame! How do you defend yourself after what you've done!"
"Mother…" He trailed off, unsure of what to say.
"In my heart the thought always nagged, a doubt was always in simmering that maybe you are undeserving of your sister. But alas today you proved my intuition to be true. Your father indeed made a mistake. You truly are undeserving and unworthy of her."
Tears which began brimming his eyes, threatened to fall. He muttered a soft apology but his mother looked away, refusing to accept them. He tried to touch her but retracted his hand when his mother said the following.
"Go now! Bring me my daughter. And not bother to grace me with your presence if she is no longer found."
Swallowing nervously the young Prince left. Following behind the search party.
"You definitely have those violet eyes… now let's see lass whether you got those what do they call it— Vilaryan, Viluryon—"
"It's Valyrian, you moron!"
"Same shit! Now let's see whether you got those pretty Targaryen hair as well."
Having said that, in one swift motion the man pulled the cap off the Aemma's head revealing her key Valyrian feature.
Now the entire brothel had their head turned towards Aemma. Everyone watched in awe as her silky silvery hair came into display. Audible gasp could be heard leaving few lips, with some calling her "A Targaryen spawn."
"So you weren't entirely lying lass… you are a Targaryen bastard."
"I am the King's daughter!" Aemma repeated.
"Of course you are!" The man added with heavy sarcasm before he burst into a series of laughter once more.
This time few more voices joined him. Men had an appetite for women with that Valyrian looks, and despite the young age Aemma was an especially fine one. Now with her hair out on display she basically eclipsed the entire brothel.
Turning the Princess found herself surrounded by a bunch. All of them with the same depravity reflected in their eyes. She looked at the woman hoping one of them would come to her rescue but no, instead they looked angry. Possibly due to a loss of patron for the night. Aemma understood only option left for her is to run out of here and onto street. Surely there would be some king'sguard patrolling the city around this time of the night. Although it is not guaranteed whether she would be able to succeed in outrunning these entire group.
But she must try… she has to…
Without further thinking she faced the closest gap and sprinted out of it. In few long steps she was out of the establishment and out onto the street. However those men were on her trail. Chasing after her like savage hungry hounds.
It was not long until the white-cloaks burst into the Blue Pearl under the leadership of Ser Criston Cole and Prince Daeron— who was now out of his disguise.
Total chaos ensued throughout the establishment as the King'sguards began storming every chambers, corners and secluded areas, dragging out all whore and patrons. While some were able to cover them to some degree of modesty, the others remained stark naked as the day they were born. Ser Arryk brought the madame who ran this place. When everyone was gathered around Ser Criston and the Prince, the latter demanded to know where the Princess was. Most people had their faces go pale as they realized—
The girl was indeed telling the truth.
And collectively everyone decided to take her for a liar. The evidence was right before their eyes, yet none believed her. And now they'd all have to pay the price with their head if something happens to her.
In fear of losing their lives everyone began speaking simultaneously causing another ruckus.
"SILENCE!" Ser Criston shouted over everyone and brought down complete silence. He inquired. "Who's in charge here?!"
"'Tis I…" The madame stepped forth and made small curtsy towards the Prince.
"What is your name?"
"It's Sylvi, good Ser."
"Have you seen the Princess?"
"I have, but very briefly, from afar, negotiating with a frequent visitor. However at the time I was not aware of who she was, and assumed she was a servant from the palace. So I have not much attention."
"Where is she now?"
"I am not su-"
"She fled." A timid voice belonging to a much younger girl cut in. "She consistently told the man that she was no whore but the vile man refused to believe her. Even when her hair was revealed, they considered her one of those white haired bastard."
"They?" The change of pronoun caught Daeron's attention instantly.
"Once her hair was out more men showed interest…"
"And where are those men now?" Daeron furrowed his brows.
"They chased after her."
Daeron's heart missed a beat as his eyes went wide. Fear now showing on his face.
At Criston's wave of hand a big portion of the search party quickly headed out. A small group was asked to stay back taking the whole establishment hostage.
"No one's to leave till the Princess is found. In the meantime you all better do pray that she is found unharmed. Otherwise this place be burnt to ashes by my dragon with all of you in it."
The threat spilled effortlessly from the Prince's lips before he turned on his heels and exited.
And once outside the search party spread out in small groups heading towards their instructed territories.
Meanwhile, Aemma had already managed to outrun those perpetrators and took shelter underneath a vegetable cart.
However, that relief was short lived because soon she felt a large rough hand tightly gripping her ankle and she was sharply pulled out. Aemma was able to have a quick glimpse of him and it goes without saying he was one of those savages.
Without thinking she spat on his face. And he quickly let go of the ankle only to grab a fistful of her hair, pulling it back so hard that the Princess feared she would go bald by the time she was freed.
Then, to her utter shock-horror-disgust he wiped the spit off of his face and began licking it.
"Sweet…" he moaned.
Aemma could feel the bile rise to her throat. However seizing the opportunity she kicked him in the groin, hitting straight at his bollocks and ran.
The man cried out for his peers and pointed them to the direction she took. Thus the lot of them were on her trail once more.
Aemma kept running for a while… just as she turned to the next alleyway she stumbles onto a stone and dropped to the ground. Snapping her head back she saw that they caught up. Now approaching at slow predatory speed, sinister smile on each of their faces. One was even licking his lips.
"It is for the last time that I tell you… touching me will bring dire consequences for you all." She warned but it went unheard, as they continued their approach without an ounce of restraint.
A pair of black leather covered booted feet appeared...
Unbeknownst to the presence behind her, the Princess begged. Tears already streaming her face while her hands were clutching onto the ground like it was her last resort.
"Please don't…"
With that their steps came to an abrupt halt.
Aemma's eyes went wide in confusion when that happened. Her jaw even dropped at how deeply they bowed before turning back and fleeing like the coward they were.
She initially thought they had come to their senses and recognized who she was, but that was until she felt the presence behind her, radiating a strong aura.
Nervously she turned, and found none other than…
"Wasn't expecting to run into you here, niece."
The mere sight of Daemon Targaryen extending a helping hand over to her makes Aemma's pulse race.
She put her quivering hand into his large palm. The next moment he pulled her up and engulfed her shivering form in a warm embrace.
Aemma let out a sigh of relief… enjoying the safety of his protective arms as her uncle rubbed a hand up and down her back soothingly.
"Let's take you home." Daemon suggested once he felt his niece calm down. But she shook her head.
"I don't wish return… at least not yet."
"You sound upset."
"Actually, I'm livid. That fucking coward of a betrothed of mine abandoned me in a pleasure house."
Hugging her tighter her uncle kissed the top of her head. "Shall I punish him then?"
"No, I'm more than capable of punishing him."
"Well if you don't wish return home… then I have just the idea of what we can do."
"And what might that be?"
Pulling back Daemon took hold of her hand with a smirk tugging the corner of his lips.
"You shall see." He said tugging her along, as they walked out of the street of silk.
"My Prince, these were them."
The whole bunch was captured and all of them were made to stand in a single row as they were brought before the Prince and Ser Criston.
When Ser Criston asked about the Princess's whereabouts in fear some of them began speaking like a trained parrot. However no one was believing their version of narrative, even when every single one of them said the same thing.
That was until the familiar screeching cry was heard, followed by the blood-wyrm flying overhead.
Most folks ducked down while the dragon passed. Including Ser Criston who pulled Prince Daeron down with him. Both looked up in disbelief and exchanged a horrified look. As they no longer knew what to do at this instance.
A.N. Thank you for reading. Hope you enjoyed.