Chapter 22

Jon sighed as he slowly opened his eyes. The first rays of the morning sun brought faint light into the room. He yawned and instinctively reached for Helena, but she wasn't there.

Jon was immediately fully awake as he sat up and looked around his chamber.

"Helena?" he called, but there was no reply. Ghost was nowhere in sight either.

Frowning, Jon got up and marched to the door. Two guards stood at their usual post.

"Has the Queen left my quarters?" Jon asked.

"Yes, Your Grace, she is in the garden," one of the guards replied.

Jon's frown deepened. "In the garden?"

"Yes, Your Grace. She is accompanied by six members of the Queensguard."

"Good," Jon murmured, though he couldn't understand why Helena hadn't woken him before leaving.

"Also, Lord Tyrion asked to speak with you when you woke, Your Grace," the guard added.

Jon's frown deepened further. "Why didn't you wake me?"

Both guards looked slightly uncomfortable.

"The Queen told us to let you sleep, Your Grace."

Jon exhaled slowly. "I see. Send for Lord Tyrion. I want to speak with him immediately."

"Yes, Your Grace."

Jon returned to his chamber and quickly dressed before stepping onto the balcony. Below, in the garden, he spotted Helena sitting on a bench, gazing out toward the harbor. Ghost lay at her feet, his large frame unmoving, while the guards stood only a few steps away.

Jon let out a breath of relief. She was safe.

He stayed on the balcony, watching Helena until Tyrion arrived. His old friend looked weary, as if he hadn't slept much.

"Good morning," Tyrion said, stepping onto the balcony with a cup of wine in hand. "A servant brought you some breakfast if you're hungry."

Jon shook his head. "Do you have news? Did that miserable coward talk?"

"He did," Tyrion replied, taking a slow sip from his cup. "It seems the man was one of the High Sparrow's fanatics. You may have heard of him, he led the religious sect known as the Sparrows and was appointed High Septon during King Tommen's reign."

Tyrion paused, watching Jon's reaction before continuing. "I don't know if you've heard, but Cersei destroyed the Great Sept with wildfire. The High Sparrow, most of his followers, and even Tommen's wife, Margaery Tyrell, perished in the flames. It seems some of his disciples survived, and they now seek vengeance for what Cersei did."

Jon exhaled sharply, his jaw tightening. He had heard of the High Sparrow and his fanatical followers, but he hadn't expected their influence to linger so long after their leader's death.

"So, they want vengeance," Jon muttered, his gaze flickering to Helena, still seated in the garden below. His grip on the balcony railing tightened. "And they tried to take it out on her."

Tyrion sighed. "It seems they view Helena as the last surviving legacy of Cersei Lannister. To them, it doesn't matter that she had nothing to do with her mother's actions." He swirled the wine in his cup. "Religious zealots rarely care about reason, only retribution."

Jon's fists clenched. He had fought countless enemies, but there was something especially dangerous about men who killed in the name of righteousness. They could not be reasoned with, nor intimidated. Only eradicated.

"Was he acting alone?" Jon asked.

Tyrion shook his head. "No. He mentioned others. He claimed they are 'watching' and 'waiting for the right moment.' That suggests more than just a scattered few."

He sighed, rubbing his temple. "We've sent men to investigate, but these fanatics are good at hiding in plain sight. For all we know, they could be among the city's poor, the merchants, even within our own walls."

Jon's stomach twisted at the thought. Helena was in danger. Their child was in danger. And Jon had sworn he would protect them both.

"They need to be rooted out," Jon said, his voice like steel. "Every last one of them."

Tyrion nodded. "I thought you'd say that." He took another sip of wine. "I've already set Varys and his little birds to the task. If there's a nest of fanatics hiding in King's Landing, they won't stay hidden for long."

Jon gave a curt nod, his mind already moving ahead.

"I want extra guards on Helena at all times," he said. "And I want their loyalty unquestionable."

Tyrion smirked. "I suspected as much. The Queensguard has already doubled their watch over her."

Jon turned his gaze back to Helena. She was still seated on the bench, but now she was speaking to one of her maids, absently stroking Ghost's fur. She looked peaceful, but he knew her well enough to see the tension beneath the surface.

"I should be with her," Jon said finally.

Tyrion gave a small, knowing nod. "Go," he said. "I'll handle things here."

"Thank you. I want to see the small council today."

"I'll arrange that."

Jon gave him a grateful nod before turning and striding out of the chamber, heading straight for the garden. The guards greeted him with a respectful bow as he approached Helena.

She was gazing at the sea, lost in thought. Jon frowned as he noticed the furry creature curled in her lap, an orange cat, purring contentedly as Helena absently stroked its fur.

"Helena?" Jon said softly, careful not to startle her.

She turned to him, offering a gentle smile. "Good morning, Jon. Did you sleep well?"

He nodded. "I did, but you should have woken me before you left."

"You needed rest," she countered. "I've disturbed your sleep more than enough."

Jon sighed, crouching beside her. "You are my wife, Helena. My Queen. You and our child come before everything else." His gaze flickered to the cat still purring contentedly in her lap. "And who is this?"

Helena's smile grew. "I found him wandering the gardens this morning. Or rather, he found me." She scratched the cat behind the ears, earning a pleased meow. "I think he likes me."

Jon huffed, eyeing the cat warily. "Another protector, it seems. As if Ghost weren't enough."

At the sound of his name, Ghost lifted his head, giving the cat a disapproving look. The cat, undeterred, flicked his tail and nestled deeper into Helena's lap.

Helena smiled. "You should be glad, Jon. The more protection we have, the better."

Jon took her hand in his, his thumb brushing gently over her knuckles. "Tyrion spoke to me," he said, his voice quieter now. "The man who attacked you wasn't working alone. There are more of them, hiding in the city. They see you as a symbol of your mother's sins."

Helena's smile faded. She lowered her gaze, her fingers tightening slightly around his. "I suppose I should have expected that."

Jon's grip on her hand firmed. "You shouldn't have to." His other hand came to rest on her belly, protective and warm. "I won't let them touch you."

She met his gaze then, searching his face. "I know."

He exhaled, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Until we find them, I want you guarded at all times. No more walking alone, not even here in the castle."

Helena hesitated, then nodded. "If it gives you peace of mind, I'll do as you ask."

Jon let out a breath of relief, then smirked slightly. "Good. Now tell me, do I need to start worrying about this little beast stealing your affections?"

Helena laughed, lifting the cat up so his golden eyes met Jon's. "Well, he's warm, affectionate, and doesn't argue with me. Perhaps you should be worried."

Jon shook his head, a soft chuckle escaping him. "I suppose I'll have to try harder then."

Helena was quiet for a moment before speaking again. "My maid told me this cat belonged to Tommen. His name is Ser Pounce." She paused, sadness evident in her eyes. "Tommen was always a sweet boy, nothing like Joffrey. He loved animals, and I'm grateful the servants took care of Ser Pounce. I want to look after him from now on."

Jon squeezed her hand gently, his expression softening. "Then he stays."

Helena smiled, running her fingers through Ser Pounce's soft fur. "Thank you."

Jon watched her for a moment before speaking. "Tommen was a good boy," he said quietly. "He didn't deserve what happened."

Helena swallowed hard and nodded. "No, he didn't." Her voice was barely above a whisper. "I sometimes wonder what kind of king he would have become if he had been given the chance. He had such a kind heart."

Jon didn't know what to say. He had never known Tommen well, but he had heard enough to understand the pain in Helena's voice. He reached out, brushing his fingers over her cheek. "You honor him by remembering."

Helena leaned into his touch, offering him a small but grateful smile. Then, as if sensing her sorrow, Ser Pounce let out a soft, insistent meow and nudged his head against her chin.

Jon huffed. "Clever little beast."

Helena chuckled, pressing a kiss to Ser Pounce's head. "He knows when someone needs comfort."

Jon glanced back toward the castle, his expression hardening slightly. "And right now, I need to ensure you're safe." He stood, offering her his hand. "Come. Let's return inside. I need to speak with the council, and I want you close."

Helena hesitated for a brief moment before taking his hand. "Alright."

Ser Pounce leapt gracefully from her lap, landing beside Ghost, who let out a resigned sigh. As Jon led Helena back toward the castle, the direwolf and the cat followed, one massive and imposing, the other small but determined.

Jon glanced over his shoulder and shook his head. "I never thought I'd see the day where Ghost had to share his duties."

Helena laughed, squeezing his hand. "Perhaps it's a sign of good fortune."

"Perhaps," Jon agreed. "First, I want you to have some breakfast. You need to eat."

"So do you," Helena countered. "You need to take care of yourself too, Jon."

Jon sighed but didn't argue. "Fine. We'll eat together."

Helena smiled in satisfaction as they stepped into the castle, the warmth of the morning sun giving way to the cool stone halls.

"I watched the sunrise," she said, leaning against Jon's shoulder as they made their way to the King's quarters. "It was beautiful."

"I'm sure it was." Jon exhaled softly, his voice gentle but firm. "And I don't want you to feel like I'm trying to control you, but please don't leave like that again while I'm asleep. Your safety is my first priority."

Helena nodded, her fingers tightening around his. "I understand, Jon. I didn't mean to worry you, I just needed a moment to breathe."

Jon glanced down at her, his expression softening. "I know," he admitted. "But after what happened, I can't help but worry."

She stopped walking, turning to face him fully. "I promise I won't do it again," she said gently. "At least, not without telling you first."

Jon studied her for a moment, then nodded. "That's all I ask."

Satisfied, they continued toward his chambers, where a warm breakfast awaited them. The scent of fresh bread and honey filled the air as a servant set down a tray of food.

Ser Pounce immediately leapt onto a cushioned chair nearby, his tail curling neatly around his paws, while Ghost settled beside the table, ever watchful.

Jon pulled out a chair for Helena before taking his seat beside her.

As Helena buttered a piece of bread, she cast a glance at Jon. "What will you discuss with the council?"

Jon's jaw tensed slightly. "Tyrion and Varys are working to uncover the rest of these zealots. I need to know how many of them are in the city and what their plans are. We can't afford to wait until they strike again."

Helena hesitated. "I want to be there."

Jon frowned. "Helena…"

"I won't speak unless necessary," she promised, meeting his gaze steadily. "But these people want me dead. I want to know what we're dealing with."

Jon considered her for a long moment, then finally relented with a nod. "Alright. But you stay by my side."

Helena gave him a small smile. "I promise."