Titus
The Titan of Braavos dominated the horizon, dwarfing the ships which regularly sailed beneath its legs. All these ships, and the fleet which was anchored around the vast shipyard known as the Arsenal, looked like toy boats which a mighty man was guarding from unseen foes.
No matter how long Titus had lived in Braavos, he was still in awe of that wondrous sight. Never before had he felt so safe, so secure; the city of Braavos would surely never be attacked, and even if it were, it would never fall.
He and his family lived on one of the hundred islands across which the city was sprawled; this island in particular was narrow on its eastern side, forming what might have been a peninsula if it were a more significant piece of land. The Dondarrions had secured the entirety of that small peninsula for their own. The whole property could have safely fit within the walls of Blackhaven with room to spare, but it was more than enough for Titus.
His estate included stables, gardens, a private dock, and a manor. The latter included a tower that gave Titus' balcony a nearly unbroken view of the Titan.
"My love?"
Bellaria joined him on the balcony, taking one of his pale hands in both her dark ones. She had never been thin, and now she had become delightfully buxom now that she was past fifty. Her ringletted hair - which she often fashioned into long braids - was slowly becoming more grey than black. Would that I could have aged half as well as she.
"The canals have thawed again," Titus observed.
Bellaria turned her gaze to the city. Winter did not affect Braavos as strongly as it did parts of Westeros. Titus knew that they had just begun their third year of winter; he still heeded the Westerosi calendar, even if he only used it to keep track of name days.
Braavos had gone through its cold spells, to be sure, but they did not last long. Still, as a chilly wind whistled about him, Titus was reminded of the colder days on the Dornish Marches.
"The morning is waning," Bellaria murmured. "Let us go down to the children."
"You're right." Titus scratched at the skin beneath his white beard. "Do you think I need a trim today?"
"I thought you needed a trim three days ago," Bellaria chided him playfully.
Bellaria's mother had been the Black Pearl of Braavos, a prestigious title which had begun with Bellegere Otherys, one of King Aegon IV's many lovers. Her father had been a Summer Islander, the second son of a prince who had gone into trading.
When Titus had come to Braavos during his first exile, Bellaria had already been in the Summer Isles, serving as an acolyte to the god and goddess of beauty, love, and fertility. That was where Titus had first met her, travelling to Jhala after his second departure from Westeros.
Titus had not been her only lover, but he'd soon become her foremost one. By the time they'd conceived their first child, Titus had been initiated into her faith and undergone a wedding ceremony in the manner of the Summer Isles.
Even after they had finally moved their family to Braavos, their ties to the Summer Isles were strong. Titus had purchased a trading ship, with Ollo of Lannisport taking on the duties of ship captain. Together, Titus and Ollo had spent years sailing from Braavos to the Summer Isles and back again, visiting as many ports in between to buy or sell. By the time Titus had returned from the fifth of these voyages, he'd recruited three smaller ships to help bring his cargo north to Braavos. He and Bellaria paid the crews generously, which persuaded them to renew their contracts and bring other ships to their cause. Bellaria had also used her family connections in the Summer Isles to attract further investors and trading partners, whilst Titus had already built a good reputation thanks to his history of investments with the Iron Bank. Moreover, all of their children had been sent back to Jhala when they'd come of age to complete their educations in Ebonhead's temple of love.
"What do you wish to do for your name day?" Bellaria asked him as they descended the tower's staircase.
"Besides the usual?" Titus shrugged. "Our family by day, and then our own excursion by night. What else could I ask for?" He gave a sigh. "I just wish that I could see everyone on this day." Three of his children were abroad.
"I'm sure they will be thinking of you," Bellaria urged.
When they reached the bottom of the tower, they made their way to the hall.
It was the largest room in the manor, built to host forty people comfortably. Business partners, officials, friends, all had been hosted beneath Titus and Bellaria's roof. Today, however, it was just their family which awaited them.
Their daughter Chatali sat with her husband Lotho and their children at the main dining table. Their twin daughters - Titus still marvelled that he was a grandfather - were just four years of age. Chatali held her younger child in her arms, nursing him whilst Lotho fed Chatali by hand.
Lotho's father had been a runaway slave when Ollo had brought him back to Braavos. He had been content to spend the rest of his life serving as a free sailor on Titus' ships, but his son proved far more able at sums than sailing. Titus had looked after Lotho and ensured him with a good education. Chatali had already gone to receive training in the Summer Isles by then, but she and Lotho had quickly fallen in love when she returned.
Miru sat close by, playing with Chatali's daughters as they broke their fast. She had always doted on her younger siblings after they were born, and she adored Chatali's children like they were her own.
Chatali's younger sister, Belakka, was dressed as elegantly as always, sitting apart from the children in case they spilled something on her clothes. A gold necklace of rubies and sapphires hung around her neck, rings of various metals were around four of her fingers, and her earrings boasted beryl stones.
When Titus and Bellaria entered the hall, Chatali's twins sprang up and ran toward them, embracing their grandfather and wishing him a happy name day.
After kissing them on their foreheads, Titus did the same for Miru and Belakka when they approached him.
"Many happy returns, Father," Miru told him. Her smile was slightly lopsided, due to her scarred face. When Titus had first met Miru, she'd been badly burned in a fire that had been lit to kill her and her family. She had survived to name those responsible, whereupon Titus had executed them and adopted her as his ward. Before leaving Westeros, he had formally adopted her as his daughter, with her blessing.
Titus approached the table so that Chatali would not have to stand up. He did the same for Matthias, who was seated across from Chatali and her husband.
"Father," Matthias greeted him as Titus kissed his son's forehead. He was the only one of Titus' children who a marcher might recognise as a Dondarrion. His hair and beard were the colour of reddish rust, and he'd inherited Titus' green eyes. Although he had seen twenty and seven years, he stood just a head taller than his nieces.
Titus' son had been born a bastard to a daughter of House Redfort when Titus had still been serving as Master of Laws. That alone might have been worthy of a scandal, let alone the fact that Matthias was a dwarf.
Even in Braavos, Matthias faced scorn for his stature. Titus had done what he could to shield his son from mean minds.
Titus overheard Chatali speaking to Bellaria. "There was a message from Zozhana. It seems that her shipment was lost at sea."
"Again?" Bellaria sighed. "She will have to go to the Iron Bank this time."
"She knows, Mama. She was hoping that we could vouch for her when she goes to see them."
"I suppose we ought to," Bellaria conceded. "I'll write back to her tomorrow."
"No need," Chatali replied. "It's already done. I didn't want her to fret for another day."
Bellaria gave a cheeky smile. "And if I had refused?"
"Then I would have gone without you," Chatali retorted matter-of-factly.
Titus smiled. His daughter was compassionate, but also calculating; she knew full well that nothing preserved a business better than loyalty. "No currency is half as valuable as gratitude," Bellaria had taught her when she'd first shown an interest in trade and commerce. "Those who hold gratitude cheap will eventually pay for their folly in more than just coin."
After a moment, Bellaria looked around. "What's going on?"
"My love?" Titus frowned in confusion.
Belakka was grinning. "You told them to wait for your signal, Mama."
"Can't you hear us? We're here! Come on in now," Bellaria called out.
A young man and woman bounded into the hall, calling out to their father. The others began to laugh as Titus gave a cry of surprise and delight.
Baalun was the only son born to Titus and Bellaria, and he was also their youngest child at nineteen. Six feet tall and lean, he gave a toothy smile as he embraced Titus.
"What are you doing here?" Titus exclaimed. "I thought you would still be on Jhala." Baalun had been the last of his children with Bellaria to travel south and serve as an acolyte in the temple where Titus and Bellaria had first met.
"No longer," Baalun explained. "I learned a lot, but there's more to learn at sea. Besides, you thought we would miss your name day?"
Titus was not surprised by his son's wishes; he'd always loved the sea, just like the sister whom he idolised.
"Papa!"
Titus laughed aloud as he turned to the second figure. She was just as tall as Baalun, and she'd always been able to outmatch him in feats of strength and speed. Years of sailing, adventuring, and fighting had given her strong muscles, several scars, and a reputation which preceded her at every port she visited.
Now she embraced her father like she'd always done since she was a little girl. As with Baalun, her tunic and breeches were heavily patched and careworn from constant sea travel, but her silk cape - a keepsake from her initiation as a temple priestess - was still a bright purple, in honour of her father's sigil. The great Valyrian steel sword Doom hung in its sheath by her side.
"Welcome home," Titus told Leroya as her arms wrapped around him. She reeked of sea salt and sweat, as she so often did. One side of her head had been cut so short that only a fringe of hair covered her scalp. On the other side, her wavy black hair was long and tied into a tight braid that rested on her shoulder.
Leroya Dondarrion was fully aware of the startling image she presented, and she thoroughly enjoyed it. Sometimes Titus wondered if his daughter was still trying to shock her parents, for they had always proved unflappable to her indulgences and her nature.
All her life, Leroya had been a bold woman of paradoxes. Ever since she'd come of age and become a sailor, she always wore clothes worn by men. And yet, she was neither ashamed nor coy about her womanhood. She was also a warrior, highly skilled with bow and sword alike.
Although her looks favoured her mother, Bellaria often said that Leroya resembled Titus the most of all her children. She was driven to explore by a strong curiosity for knowledge and an equally intense desire for adventure. She also had insatiable appetites when it came to men and women alike. Upon her return from the Summer Isles, she'd spent her first night back in a wharf with over a dozen sailors. According to the lurid accounts, she'd been up half the night servicing three men at a time.
She'd never sought the life of a courtesan as Belakka had done, she did not share Sadog's passion for sums, she had no interest in administration or trading as Chatali did, nor was she an artist like Miru; all she wanted was a ship to command, and leave to journey as she saw fit. Sometimes she came home with accounts of successful trades, sometimes she was empty-handed with new scars, and sometimes she returned with treasures that she swore had been reclaimed from pirates. Regardless of how she returned, though, there was always a good tale or two for her to tell.
"So good to have you home," Titus declared warmly as he looked from Baalun to Leroya. Seized with a sudden thought, he looked past them to the doorway whence they'd emerged. "Is Sadog here too?"
"No, Father," Miru interjected sadly. "He said he would be here, but we've heard no word from him."
Bellaria made a noise of disapproval. "Shame on him."
Titus shook his head. "No need for that. Sadog is a busy man." Despite that conciliatory remark, Titus could not help but share Bellaria's disappointment.
"I'm sure he will come when he can, Papa," Chatali urged. "Please, come sit with us."
Thus they broke their fast. Titus put aside his hurt feelings about Sadog as he conversed and japed with his family.
"Whatever happened to that one boy?" Bellaria asked Belakka. "The one with the curly hair and the big nose."
"Dartano?" Belakka grinned mischievously. "I'm afraid he's gotten himself into a spot of trouble again. He tried to claim that I was worthier of the Black Pearl title than my dear cousin. He said it all across the city, poor fool."
"Just as you say, Mother," Chatali quipped to Bellaria. "You can't spell 'bravado' without 'bravo'."
Bellaria smiled and shook her head before turning back to Belakka. "So what's become of poor Dartano?"
"The strangest thing," Belakka elaborated. "Dartano was going about his day, defending my honour as always, and he found himself challenged by three different men to duels on the same day."
Baalun stared at his sister as a laughter of astonishment left his lips. "How did he bloody well do that?"
"It is a rule of duels," Belakka reminded him. "The challenged men choose the day and time. But that's not all. It seems these men all know each other!"
An astonished burst of laughter left Miru's lips. "In a city as big as this, how did he manage such a strange coincidence?"
"They're bravos," Leroya interjected. "No doubt they all know each other."
"Well, good luck to Dartano," Titus remarked. He glanced at his daughter. "Did you at least give him your favour to wear?"
"My favour?" Belakka frowned in confusion. "What's that?"
"Westerosi tradition," Miru explained to her younger sister. "Ladies give something to their men to wear on their armour before a joust or a battle. A handkerchief, usually, or something similar."
"And what if he loses?" Belakka waved her hand dismissively. "Such a waste of a good handkerchief."
Titus felt the usual stab of resentment to hear Belakka speak so callously. As a girl, she had always been selfish and vain. Titus and Bellaria had sternly tried to dispel these traits in her, but she'd only learned to conceal her nature with charm and politeness. Now that she was an accomplished courtesan with her own barge and her own manse in a fashionable quarter of the city, she flaunted her privilege and wealth at every opportunity. She chose only the most prestigious and wealthiest lovers, and she carried herself as an arrogant princess. Still, she was his daughter, and for all her faults, she never turned her back on her family. She, at least, is here.
Ashamed of that last thought, Titus focused on Leroya as her husky voice caught his attention. "Tell me, Miru, how fares Lozyn?"
"She is well," Miru replied, smiling shyly as she often did when she spoke of her lover.
"You should have brought her with you," Bellaria urged Miru.
"There is a sickness amongst the children," Miru explained, "and she is our best healer."
"Is that why you still haven't finished my portrait?" Belakka complained.
"You'll have it soon," Miru promised.
"That reminds me," Bellaria interjected. "Master Althor's wife wishes to commission a portrait. When will you have time to sit with her?"
The conversations continued until the morning meal was finished. Then they went to the small harbour and embarked on the pleasure barge which Titus and Bellaria kept for this purpose.
Titus had fallen in love with Braavos ever since he'd first visited it, and his journeys down the canals never failed to take his breath away. This was a city which had never known the ravages of war. It had survived and endured beneath the notice of dragons, and then continued to thrive long after the Valyrian Freehold had been cast down in disaster.
Several Braavosi hailed them, for the Dondarrions had become well known in the city. Miru was a prolific portrait painter and a known philanthropist. Belakka patronized several establishments. Bellaria and Chatali were two of the more prominent merchants of the city. Sadog worked for the Irom Bank. Titus often attended important events in the company of the Sealord himself, thanks to his status as ambassador.
As the sun passed its zenith in the sky, Bellaria declared that it was time for their first appointment. At her direction, the oarsmen steered the barge towards the Purple Harbour, which lay right in the middle of Braavos' most fashionable and respectable districts.
"What awaits us here?" Titus asked her as they stepped back onto dry land.
"As if I would give away the surprise," Bellaria teased, even as several sailors catcalled their daughters. Chatali paid them no heed and blocked her girls from the sailors' view with Lotho's help. Belakka blew the sailors a mocking kiss, then turned away from them. As for Miru, she determinedly doted on Chatali's twins, distracting herself as much as they. For their part, Baalun and Leroya moved to shield all three of their sisters from the sailors' view, especially Miru.
As the Dondarrions put the harbour behind them, they entered the Blue Lantern. It was a well-respected playhouse which regularly attracted crowds to their performances. Titus had seen a wide variety of acts, both from the local mummers who performed in the playhouse, and from performers brought in from all across the known world.
There were two shows on this day, wildly different from each other. The first was a musical by a troupe from Leng.
"Half of them are from the north, half from the south," Leroya explained as their performance was beginning. She ignored the shushes that she got for her loud whispering.
"How can you tell?" Belakka asked in a bewildered tone.
"Their height," Leroya replied.
Titus, who had dined with the ambassador from Yi Ti, knew the truth of that. The northern half of Leng was populated by those of YiTish descent, while the Lengii, who lived in the south, were the tallest people in the world; that was excluding the giants, if any still lived beyond the Wall.
The performers took to the stage whilst wearing the most elaborate costumes that Titus had ever seen. Some of the mummers moved in a stilted manner, as if they were statues come to life. Their faces were hidden by massive masks; only their eyes and mouths were visible as they sang in the YiTish tongue. Others were dancers, and their lithe bodies moved in perfect unison, even when they leapt into the air.
All of them were accompanied by an assembly of instruments which produced music such as Titus had never heard from any other part of the world. The music ranged from lively and energetic, to wildly bombastic, to slow and deeply melodic.
Wonder took Titus as he beheld the spectacle. He believed that he had the gist of the story, but he was paying more heed to the aesthetics. He did not need to understand the words being sung; the music itself enthralled him. He was also amazed by the energy and flexibility of the dancers. They moved in perfect synchronicity with each song.
The second play was about to begin. Titus knew little about it, except that it was Westerosi in origin, based on the title. In fact, it was a revival of a play which had first been performed twenty years before. The playwright was from Westeros, where most of his plays took place, but his work was already popular in a number of the Free Cities.
This one was set in the Reach, during the time of the Gardener kings. It was a re-enactment of the terrible strife between House Peake and House Manderly when the Gardener throne was bereft of a male heir.
First came a scene depicting the funeral of King Garth Gardener, the Tenth of his Name. The seeds of the feud were sown amongst those in attendance, even as there came a message that the Dornish were invading the marches. Mention was made of Lord Peake leading the counterattack, rallying an army to defend the Reach against this Dornish incursion.
All of a sudden, a dwarf emerged on the stage. He was not dressed in motley, as so many dwarf mummers were wont to do; he was armoured, wearing the sigil of House Peake, and carried a sword in his hand. Most surprising of all to Titus was the fact that this dwarf was also his son.
He looked about him, as if he expected to see Matthias still sitting amongst his family. The others were just as surprised, except for Miru. She flashed Titus a cheeky grin and silently urged him to watch.
Titus turned back to the stage, feeling foolish. He had been so engrossed in the first play that he hadn't noticed Matthias' absence.
Now his son stood on stage to begin the next scene. Other actors stood by, equally armed and dressed for combat. They were silent as Matthias spoke aloud.
"Attend to me, warriors of renown," he called out in a sonorous voice. "Let the great summer sun not blind you from our purpose!"
From his first appearance, there were titters in the audience. Titus heard his children let out furious hisses against them, but he still cringed for Matthias.
His son paused, clearly disconcerted by the crowd's reaction, but then he continued.
"Blood will soon seep into the ground beneath my feet," he declared. "Long would I tarry ere I struck the first blow, but from the second blow, I will never shrink. And if the gods above will that blood must flow, then take heart! For this red elixir will feed spring's new harvest!"
His speech was stirring; Titus felt a shiver go down his spine as he listened to his son. He felt furious at how so many in the crowd were not taking him seriously. They seemed to think that the performance was meant to be a farce.
It continued on throughout the play. Matthias was performing one of the lead roles, where he was playing a heroic but ambitious man, who aspired the crown of the Reach through his equally ambitious wife. It was a masterful performance, so far as Titus could tell.
The audience continued to giggle and whisper amongst themselves as the play went on, especially when Matthias was onstage. Titus and his family did what they could to silence such crass behaviour, and they applauded Matthias as fiercely as they could whenever the opportunity arose.
Finally, the play was finished. Matthias and the woman who played his wife stepped forward and bowed together, then lined up with their fellow cast and bowed once more.
"It was marvellous," Titus told Matthias when they reunited. "How long were you hiding this from me?"
"Almost a year now," Matthias answered curtly. Despite the adulation of his family, he had a subdued expression.
Titus turned and exchanged a glance with Miru. She replied silently with the slightest of shrugs. There was little to be said in regard to what had happened.
As the Dondarrions stood outside the Blue Lantern, beneath a full moon and clear sky, they began to go their separate ways. Leroya and Baalun headed for the wharves, which were already echoing with raucous voices. Belakka and Miru departed for their respective homes. Matthias accompanied Chatali and her family as they made for Titus' estate.
Titus meant to go with them, until Bellaria took his hand and gave him a smile. "Where are we going, then?"
"Upstairs," Bellaria murmured, gesturing to the Blue Lantern.
Titus felt a thrill as he and Bellaria went back into the playhouse. There, they were directed to the top floor, which was reserved for costly pleasures.
Four prostitutes awaited them in one of the luxurious chambers. Two were comely young men, whose fit bodies glistened when they began to undress. One was swarthy, with black hair cropped close to his skull. The other was pale, with a mane of light-brown hair.
The other two were women, and their looks were even more diverse than the men. One was a Lengii woman whom Titus assumed had also performed in the first play, and the other was Rohynish in appearance.
Bellaria gave Titus a soft kiss. "Take this." She took out a vial from within her robe and gave it to him as she undressed. Inside was a pale blue liquid.
Titus knew what this was; he had needed to take this potion more regularly as he'd entered his autumn years. No amount of assurances by Bellaria or others could stop him from feeling ashamed of his dependence on these doses. Nevertheless, he did not hesitate to swallow it down as he and Bellaria undressed.
It was not often that Titus felt short, but the Lengii woman was easily past seven feet in height. She gave a smile as Bellaria approached her. Her skin was like oiled teak, her black hair was sleek and smooth, and her large eyes were a golden colour which Titus had never seen before.
Bellaria led her to the large bed, where they began to fondle each other. Bellaria's eyes often flashed back to her husband, making it clear that she welcomed his gaze. The Lengii woman followed her example, grinning as she put on a whole new performance. Titus wished that the concoction would take effect soon.
The young men were quicker; they joined Bellaria and the Lengii woman on the bed. Bellaria was soon placed on her back; as the men took turns penetrating her anus, she chanted a prayer to the god and goddess. Her head lay in the Lengii woman's lap as she played with Bellaria's heavy, sagging breasts.
The sight stirred Titus, but not enough that he was ready to join them. Thankfully, the Rohynish woman had remained with him. She was shorter than Bellaria, but no less buxom.
She knelt before him and took his manhood into her mouth. He locked eyes with her as she went to work on his shaft. He did not fail to note that she bore a teardrop tattoo beneath one eye.
He was saddened by that sight. It was the mark given to slaves in Volantis when they were made to be prostitutes. Doubtless she had escaped and found her freedom in Braavos, but the tattoo would never be erased.
For all her skill, Titus' body was slow in cooperating with his will. Reluctantly, he bade her to stop. "Go join my wife," he urged. "I will join when I am ready."
He sat down and watched a while longer as Bellaria continued to be served. He could not help lamenting that he needed assistance to make love. It was a shameful thing, whatever anyone might say to the contrary. The sight before him was inflaming his heart and mind alike, but it was not until he felt himself stiffen that he felt he was properly appreciating it. Finally, he arose and approached the bed as well.
The Lengii woman greeting him with an embrace, gasping as he slipped inside her. Her open mouth was swiftly filled by one of the male prostitutes, whom Titus kissed on the lips as he began to thrust.
At one point, someone lit incense which filled the room with an intoxicating smell. It was not quite enough to stifle the stench of the large bed or those who cavorted on it. Time lost all meaning to Titus; when he was utterly spent, he fell into a deep sleep while embracing an equally exhausted Bellaria.
"*"* "*" *"*" *"*"*" *"*"*" *"*" *"*" "*" "*"*"* "" ""*" *"*"*" *"*"*"* "*
The following morning, after they had bathed, Titus and Bellaria made their way back to their home.
Chatali, Matthias, Lotho, and Belakka were in the hall, sitting at the table whilst the grandchildren played around them. The remains of the morning meal were sprawled all across the table.
A plump young man was sitting with Titus' children. He was dressed in the purple robes associated with the Iron Bank, but he looked to be more of an assistant than an official representative. His face was boyish and he seemed half-afraid of his task.
"Welcome home, Papa," Chatali called. She gestured to the purple-clad man. "He says he has an urgent letter for you, and he was told to place it in your hands alone."
"Lord Titus," the young man declared, nodding his head respectfully as he rose from his seat. The effect was spoiled by his gold-framed spectacles sliding down his nose and dangling in midair by the chain attached to his collar. He gave a squeak of alarm, as if expecting his spectacles to shatter on the stone floor, then flushed at his own outburst.
The twins laughed at the sight, only for Lotho to scold them under his breath. Titus stepped forward, speaking as if nothing had happened. "Welcome, young man. To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"
"I am Flavio Lornel, serving the Iron Bank," he said. "I have been sent by Sadog Dondarrion with this message." He flourished a scroll which was tightly sealed with purple wax.
"What is this?" Bellaria interjected; astonishment and disappointment were clearly to be heard in her voice. "First he misses his father's name day, now he sends a messenger in his stead?"
"Peace, darling," Titus urged her gently. "I'm sure he has his reasons." He turned back to Flavio, who handed him the scroll with a bow.
It was written in Sadog's hand, and it was clear that his son had written the message in great haste.
Father,
Please forgive my absence, but there has been terrible news from Westeros. King Maekar Targaryen is dead. All I know is that there was a siege at Starpike, and he was slain whilst leading an assault.
The Sealord will invite you to his palace to discuss this further. I thought you would want to know about this before you see him.
My apologies for missing your name day. This turn of events delayed my departure. By the time this letter reaches you, I will be on my way. I hope to see you at the Sealord's palace.
-Sadog
"Papa?"
Titus looked up at Chatali, who had spoken. "What?"
"You look as if you've seen a ghost," she replied nervously.
All were looking at him with alarm and concern on their faces, even his grandchildren. Chatali had stood up and circled around the table, approaching Titus as if she would stop him from collapsing.
He held up a hand to her in assurance that he was well, but his mind was racing.
Titus had first become acquainted with Maekar during the Blackfyre Rebellion; he had been appointed to serve and advise the young prince whilst they had fought their way across the Stormlands. Later, Titus had ridden to Maekar's rescue with Baelor at the Redgrass Field.
They had never been close, not like Titus had been with Baelor. But although Titus had never warmed to Maekar, and though he'd never forgiven him for keeping Brynden Rivers as his Hand, he had always respected him. How did I outlive Daeron and all his sons?
Moreover, he was alarmed at what this would mean for Westeros. It was bad enough that they'd lost Prince Daeron and Prince Aerion the year before; the latter had only died just a month prior. Now their father was gone as well. A catastrophe.
After he thanked Flavio for his service and sent him on his way, Titus read the letter aloud to his family.
Belakka was the first to speak. "What does that mean for you, Papa?"
"Me?" Titus was uncertain what she meant; moreover, he saw his wife's expression changing, and he did not like the glint in her eye.
"Will you still be an ambassador?"
That was his title, granted to him by King Maekar. Officially, he represented the Seven Kingdoms in Braavos, and was thus a frequent guest of the Sealord, the Iron Bank, and other such matters. It had required him to step down from any authority over his businesses and investments, leaving Bellaria and the children to manage it themselves.
"I suppose I will find out," Titus replied cautiously. He turned to Bellaria. "I believe we shall be invited to the palace soon."
There was a strange expression on her face. It was a mixture of apprehension and discontent. Titus was fully aware of what was on her mind, and he too was disquieted.
Thankfully, Bellaria seemed unwilling to speak of such things before the rest of their family. "Very well," she replied.
At that moment, the front doors burst open. Leroya and Baalun stumbled into the hall, clearly worse for wear. Their eyes were bloodshot and their clothing was rumpled and stained with spirits or something else.
"Morning," Leroya grunted as she slumped into the nearest chair at the table. She reached for a pitcher of water and succeeded in knocking over two goblets. Belakka shrieked in alarm as she leapt away from the table. "Roya!"
Leroya flinched away from her younger sister's cry. She covered her ears and glared at Belakka. "What the fuck are you screaming for?"
"My new dress," Belakka snapped. "You nearly ruined it, you clumsy ox!"
"Belakka," snapped their mother. "It is only a dress!"
Baalun, meanwhile, guffawed at the sight of his squabbling sisters. He only stayed his mirth when he noticed the look on Titus' face. "What happened?"