Chapter 12

"This place is incredible," Faye murmured, her voice tinged with awe as she allowed her body to sink into the warm embrace of the swimming bath. The water lapped gently around her, shimmering beneath the golden light of the ornate chandeliers overhead. "I never imagined something like this could even exist."

Alise stood nearby, her expression mirroring a touch of her mistress's wonder. "Indeed, my lady. The royal bathing chamber is… quite something."

Faye tilted her head back, gazing up at the intricately painted ceiling, where dragons and stars danced in a symphony of artistry. The steam rose in soft tendrils, carrying the faint aroma of lavender and jasmine, soothing her senses.

"This is more than I ever dreamed of," Faye admitted, her voice soft, almost as if she feared breaking the spell of the moment. "It feels like stepping into a storybook."

"I'm glad to see you smiling, my lady," Alise said warmly. "You deserve to be happy."

Faye turned her head toward her handmaiden, her smile faltering slightly. "Thank you," she replied, though hesitation crept into her tone.

The opulence around her felt like something out of a dream, but doubts lingered at the edges of her thoughts, stubborn and persistent. The prince's sudden change in demeanor continued to baffle her. For weeks, he had been cold and dismissive, even cruel at times. And yet, in recent days, his behavior had shifted. Kindness had replaced indifference, and respect had taken the place of scorn.

It was almost as if he had become a different person.

Faye wanted to believe in the change, to trust that this new version of the prince was genuine. But a quiet voice in her mind urged caution. What if this kindness was fleeting? What if he slipped back into his old ways, or worse, if this was all some calculated game?

She had worked hard to show him she harbored no grudge, that she was willing to give him a chance. But trusting fully, letting her guard down entirely, that was another matter.

The warmth of the bath did little to ease the knot of uncertainty in her chest. For now, she resolved to tread carefully, even as she allowed herself to enjoy this rare moment of peace.

"Did you speak with the Queen about the wedding arrangements today, my lady?" Alise asked, breaking the companionable silence.

"I did," Faye replied, a sigh escaping her lips. "But I'm afraid I was rather useless. I don't know much about arranging weddings, let alone one as grand as this."

Alise tilted her head thoughtfully, a hint of encouragement in her smile. "That's hardly surprising, my lady. Most noblewomen rely on others to help with such things. You shouldn't feel ashamed for not knowing."

Faye's fingers skimmed the surface of the water absently, creating ripples that mirrored her inner turmoil. "Still, I feel like I should know more. I grew up watching my father handle affairs of state. I listened to council meetings, learned about politics, about alliances. But weddings?" She shook her head, a rueful smile tugging at her lips. "I never gave them much thought."

"Well," Alise said with a touch of humor, "it's not as though you could have planned for this. A royal wedding is… an entirely different beast."

Faye chuckled softly despite herself. "That it is. The Queen was kind, though. She didn't make me feel foolish."

Alise leaned closer, her tone conspiratorial. "And what of His Grace? Did he offer any opinions about the wedding?"

Faye hesitated, her thoughts flickering back to her recent conversations with the prince. "Not yet," she admitted. "We've spoken more openly these past few days, but we haven't discussed the wedding itself. It's… strange, this new dynamic between us. He's kinder now, patient even. But I can't help wondering if it's only temporary."

Alise's expression softened, and she knelt by the bath's edge. "People can surprise us, my lady. Sometimes, they change for the better when they see they have a reason to. Perhaps you're that reason for him."

Faye's gaze dropped to the rippling water, her reflection wavering and indistinct. "I hope so," she murmured. "But hope can be a dangerous thing."

Alise placed a reassuring hand over her mistress's. "It can also be the start of something wonderful, my lady. Give it time."

Faye met her handmaiden's eyes, drawing strength from her unwavering confidence. "Perhaps you're right. Time will tell."

Alise opened her mouth to respond, but the creak of the door interrupted her. Both women turned toward the sound, alarmed.

"Please, don't enter!" Alise cried hastily.

Faye tensed, gripping the edge of the bath, but her nerves eased when a familiar white head peeked through the partially open door.

"Ser Fury," she breathed in relief, a small smile tugging at her lips. "What are you doing here?"

The direwolf padded in with an air of confidence, his nose twitching as he sniffed the air. Spotting the tray on the table beside the swimming bath, he made a beeline for it. With one swift movement, he snagged a pie, devouring it with a contented huff.

"Ser Fury!" Faye exclaimed, half amused, half exasperated.

The sound of hurried footsteps echoed in the hall, followed by the prince's voice. "Ser Fury! Where are you?"

Faye exchanged a glance with Alise before calling out, "He is here, Your Grace!"

Moments later, the prince appeared at the door, slightly out of breath, his expression caught somewhere between annoyance and affection. "That blasted wolf…" His words trailed off as his gaze landed on the swimming bath. His eyes widened, and he froze upon noticing Faye.

"I'm… I'm so sorry," he stammered, quickly turning his back to her. "I didn't mean to intrude."

"That's alright, Your Grace," Faye replied, though she instinctively crossed her arms over herself beneath the water. Her voice held a teasing edge as she added, "I'm sure there is nothing in here you wouldn't have seen before."

Alise gasped audibly, her hand flying to her mouth as she looked at Faye with a mixture of shock and horror.

Aegon, on the other hand, let out a nervous laugh, the tension in his shoulders easing just slightly. "Perhaps not, but still, this was not how I intended to… This was not my intention." He rubbed the back of his neck, clearly flustered.

Faye couldn't help the small smile that tugged at her lips. "You were only looking for Ser Fury, Your Grace. It's quite alright."

Aegon cleared his throat, nodding even though his back was still firmly to her. "I'll just take him and go. Fury!"

The direwolf padded over to his master, licking his chops from his earlier stolen snack, completely unfazed by the awkward tension in the room.

Aegon reached down to ruffle the wolf's fur, muttering under his breath, "You've certainly caused enough trouble for one evening."

With one last glance over his shoulder, careful to keep his gaze high above the bath, the prince said, "Enjoy your evening, my lady. Alise." He nodded in her direction before retreating swiftly, Ser Fury trotting happily beside him.

As the door closed behind them, Faye released a soft breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

"My lady!" Alise whispered, her tone scandalized. "I can't believe you said that to the prince!"

Faye shrugged lightly, sinking deeper into the warm water as though it could wash away her lingering embarrassment. "Better to laugh about it than be mortified, wouldn't you agree?" she replied, a faint smile playing on her lips. "Besides, I didn't say anything untrue. His Grace has seen plenty of naked women. Women who are far more beautiful than I am."

Alise's brows furrowed, and she hesitated before responding, her voice gentle yet firm. "Perhaps, my lady. But beauty is not everything. His Grace clearly respects you, and respect is a far rarer treasure than beauty. You will be his wife."

Faye looked at her handmaiden, the weight of those words settling over her like a cloak. "His wife," she repeated softly, as if testing the sound of it. Her voice was tinged with a mix of disbelief and uncertainty. "Sometimes, it feels like a dream I'll wake from. Other times, it feels like a burden I'll never be strong enough to bear."

"You are stronger than you think, my lady," Alise said earnestly, kneeling beside the bath. "I've seen it. You are not just anyone, they chose you for a reason."

Faye smiled faintly, though her eyes still carried traces of doubt. "Thank you, Alise. You always know what to say to lift my spirits."

Alise smiled back. "It's only the truth, my lady. And if I may say so… perhaps His Grace sees more than you give yourself credit for. He might even surprise you yet."

Faye leaned her head back, gazing up at the painted ceiling once more. The intricate patterns of dragons and stars seemed to swirl in the gentle steam. "Perhaps."

"Really, Ghost… Ser Fury?" Jon snorted as he strode down the corridor toward his chambers, the direwolf padding silently at his side, a look of unapologetic satisfaction on his face. "This is what you do when I'm not looking? Stealing food and peeking at bathing women?"

Ghost huffed in response, his red eyes glinting with what almost seemed like mischief.

Jon shook his head, a bemused smile tugging at his lips. "You're lucky I don't banish you from the keep for embarrassing me like that." His tone was stern, but the fondness in his voice betrayed him.

Ghost let out a low, rumbling growl, not of protest, but something closer to amusement, and bumped his large head against Jon's hand.

"You think this is funny, do you?" Jon chuckled, running his fingers through Ghost's thick fur. "Of course you do. But I'm the one who has to face her tomorrow."

As they reached his chamber, Jon paused, resting a hand on the doorframe. His thoughts lingered on Faye for a moment longer than he expected. She hadn't seemed angry or overly embarrassed, even after the awkwardness. Instead, there had been a flicker of amusement in her eyes, and her quick wit had caught him off guard. And he was glad she had finally felt comfortable using the royal bathing chamber.

"She's…quite something," he murmured aloud, more to himself than to Ghost.

The direwolf tilted his head, as if asking a question.

Jon sighed, opening the door and stepping inside. "Don't look at me like that. I'm just saying... I never thought I'd one day touch a noble lady, let alone…" He trailed off, shaking his head.

Ghost gave a soft chuff, leapt onto the rug, and curled up, his eyes following Jon's every move.

As the door clicked shut behind him, Jon leaned against it for a moment, taking a deep breath. Ghost had already made himself comfortable on the rug, his pale coat glowing softly in the firelight.

Jon ran a hand through his hair, a habit born of restlessness. "It's strange, Ghost," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "I've been through battles, faced down death more times than I can count, but this… this marriage, it feels like an entirely different kind of challenge."

The direwolf's ears twitched, his red eyes fixed on Jon with quiet understanding.

Pushing away from the door, Jon began to unbuckle the leather strap of his belt. Thankfully, Lyanna didn't insist that he stay in bed the whole time anymore, although he still needed to avoid all strenuous activity. His arm felt better each day, and the Maesters were certain it would heal completely, assuming Jon followed all their instructions.

Jon set the belt down on the table and sank into a comfortable chair, his thoughts still tangled around the image of Faye in the bathing chamber. Not the awkwardness of the moment, but the way she had handled it, graceful, composed, and with just enough humor to ease the tension.

"She's quite something," he repeated softly, more certain this time.

Ghost gave another low chuff, resting his head on his paws.

Jon smirked, his eyes falling on the wolf. "You think I'm going soft, don't you? But it's not that." He paused, his expression growing contemplative. "I just… didn't expect this. Her. She's not what I imagined, but maybe that's a good thing."

Jon leaned back in the chair, his hand absently resting on the armrest. "She's right to tread carefully, though. I haven't earned her trust. Not yet." His voice dropped, quieter now, almost as if speaking the words aloud made them heavier.

Ghost lifted his head slightly, letting out a soft, approving rumble.

Jon chuckled faintly. "I suppose you'd tell me to stop brooding and just do better, wouldn't you?"

The wolf blinked slowly, his gaze steady and unyielding.

Jon shook his head. "Fine, Ser Fury. Point taken."

The direwolf let out another low, approving rumble, and Jon allowed himself a small smile as he leaned back and closed his eyes. The first image in his head was of his soon-to-be bride, naked in the swimming bath, her grey-blue eyes giving him a sultry look, her lips curving into an inviting smile… Jon quickly opened his eyes. Seven hells…

Jon sat upright in the chair, raking a hand through his hair as if the action could somehow banish the image from his mind. Seven hells, indeed. He exhaled sharply, willing his thoughts to focus elsewhere, but unfortunately, they refused to cooperate.