Addam ducked a swing from Lucos and pushed him back before lunging forward with his own swing, which the man blocked. The training yard buzzed with life—knights, squires, and servants all enjoying the pleasant day. But his heart wasn't in it; he'd much rather be down by the docks, sailing on the Blackwater, feeling the wind against his face and the salt water spray coat his skin.
His father had ridden out with Jon again, the fifth time in almost a month. Addam couldn't help but wonder what could be so important that it required the Hand and the Master of Ships to venture into the city so frequently.
It couldn't be the ships; Addam had snuck down to the docks to confirm that neither his father nor Lord Arryn was there. The ships were in perfect order, their sails furled and decks swabbed clean, but the absence of the two lords only deepened Addam's curiosity.
With a determined stride, Addam made his way alone to the Sept of Baelor. The grand structure loomed ahead, its white marble shining under the midday sun. He entered quietly, the scent of incense and the soft murmur of prayers filling the air. He didn't come to pray; he came to see Rhaenys, the daughter and only living offspring of Rhaegar Targaryen, as she tended to her duties as a Septa.
Worry gnawed at Addam. His uncle Robert often mentioned Rhaenys in his cups, his rage fueled by some quarrel with the Queen. If suspicions ever cast their shadow over Rhaenys, Addam had a plan or two to protect her.
His thoughts distracted him, and Lucos seized the opportunity to strike, whacking Addam on the wrist and disarming him for the third time that day. Lucos laughed. "Looks like you're losing your edge, Addam."
Anger, Addam dropped his shield. He charged, catching Lucos by surprise, lifting him off the ground before slamming him onto his back. "How's that for losing my edge, friend?" The two laughed and helped each other up, greeted by rousing claps from their audience.
"So what's gotten into you?" Lucos asked. Addam shook his head.
"Just... missing home, is all." Lucos shrugged at the response, and the two took a break before returning to their sparring. This time, Addam won more than he lost, his focus sharpened after being disarmed so embarrassingly.
In the quiet moments between bouts, Addam's thoughts wandered back to Rhaenys, and to the secrets that lay hidden in the heart of King's Landing. He vowed to uncover them, not just for himself, but for the ones he cared about most.
As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the training yard, Addam's mind was already racing with theories. He wanted to find out what kept his father and Lord Arryn so occupied in the city.
The next day, Addam awoke before dawn. He dressed in commoner's clothes, pulled a hood over his head, and set out into the city. Today, he would follow his father and Jon Arryn.
Sticking to the shadows, Addam tailed them through the winding streets. They visited many places—whorehouses, homes, and orphanages—each one more intriguing than the last. Addam watched from the shadows, absorbing every detail.
Hour after hour passed until they reached the Street of Steel. Addam watched as they entered a smithy. Determined to get a better view, he spotted a ladder and climbed onto the roof. From his perch, he had a clear line of sight into the smithy.
Inside, his father and Jon Arryn spoke with the master smith. Addam's attention was drawn to a boy with black hair who was standing nearby. In his arms, the boy cradled a bull's head helmet. The sight sparked curiosity in Addam. He watched intently, trying to piece together the significance of this visit and the boy's presence.
His father and Jon Arryn's conversation with the master smith seemed serious. Addam strained to catch snippets of their discussion but could make out only a few words. The boy with the bull's head helmet remained at the edge of the conversation, listening intently.
Addam's mind raced with questions. Who was this boy? What was so important about the helmet? And why had his father and Jon Arryn come here?
As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the Street of Steel, Addam vowed to uncover the secrets hidden within King's Landing. He would find answers.
Addam climbed down from the rooftop, his mind buzzing with questions. He made his way through the winding streets of King's Landing, heading toward Eel Alley. It was a place he and Rhaenys had made their own—a hidden sanctuary that had cost him a thousand gold dragons to keep secret, but it was worth every coin.
He entered the home and was greeted by the rich, poignant stench of venison stew. It was a good stench, one that brought a smile to his face. He lifted his hood and laid eyes on Rhaenys' back as she tended to the pot over the hearth.
"It smells good," he commented, his voice breaking the quiet.
Rhaenys chuckled, turning to face him with a bright smile. "It is alright, far from the decadent food I ate as granddaughter to King Aerys. But I do my best."
They embraced, and Addam took her lips with his own. She reciprocated, her tongue licking his lip as their passions ignited. They fell back onto the bed, losing themselves in each other's touch. Addam was in love, deeply and undeniably.
After their moment of intimacy, Rhaenys raised her head from where it rested on his chest and looked into his eyes. "Something is bothering you, I know it."
Addam sighed, running a hand through her hair. "It's Father. He is worrying me with his ventures into the city."
"Maybe his duties call him to it? He is the Master of Ships," Rhaenys suggested.
"Yes, of ships, not brothels, orphanages, and smithies," Addam countered, his voice tinged with frustration. She craned her head in suspicion, mirroring the same doubts that had plagued Addam not too long ago. "I have a mind to confront him. I followed him and Lord Hand today."
Rhaenys got up, straddling him. The sheets fell, exposing her breasts, and she cupped his cheek with her hand. "Why does this bother you?" she asked, her eyes searching his.
Addam had to ask himself the same question. Why did he care so much? Deep down, he knew the answer—it was his worry for her. He had followed his father and Jon Arryn today to make sure it wasn't about her, but now he was even more confused as to why they were making these secretive visits.
As he gazed into Rhaenys' eyes, Addam realized that his love for her drove his every action. He would uncover the truth, not just for himself, but to protect the woman he loved.
Right now, however, he took her into his arms and kissed her passionately.
The next morning as he was sneaking himself back inside the Red Keep, he heard the bells start to ring, a dread filled him and he rushed inside the keep thinking it was his uncle Robert but it wasn't, neither was it any better when he stumbled toward where screams could be heard from the Tower of the Hand.
He saw the Master of Coin and Whispers standing close, still in their night shifts. "What's happened?" he asked of the two who looked to one another before Lord Varys answered.
"Jon Arryn is dead. The Hand of the King died of a sharp and sudden illness."