The soft glow of candlelight filled Rhiannon's chambers. Shadows danced across the surface of the water, creating a fascinating play of light as she hummed a gentle tune, lost in her blissful trance. She lounged in a luxurious bath, prepared with care by Vanesha, the fragrant steam rising around her like a delicate veil.
"Goat's milk?" Vanesha inquired, her voice soft as she held a jug above the tub. Rhiannon nodded, a smile spreading across her face as she watched the creamy liquid spill into the water, transforming it into a milky oasis. She swirled her hand gracefully through the liquid, mixing it with tender precision.
"Vanesha, I have some letters on my desk. Could you please see their delivered?" Rhiannon asked, her voice soft as Vanesha held out a rag for her.
"Of course," Vanesha replied with a bright smile. She moved gracefully as Rhiannon dipped the rag into the water and then began to scrub her arms, the fresh scent of the soap filling the air. Vanesha glanced at the neatly stacked letters before making her way toward the desk, carefully tucking the letters into her apron with gentle hands.
Rhiannon turned slightly, peering over her shoulder at the young woman. "Vanesha..." she mumbled, her voice trailing off.
"Yes? Would you like some rose petals?" Vanesha offered, already moving towards the delicate bowl filled with petals.
"No, it's just...can I ask you something?" Rhiannon hesitated, her brow furrowing slightly as she struggled to find the right words. It was her first day here, and already, her mind felt like a storm.
"Anything," Vanesha replied softly, her voice a gentle balm amidst the storm. She settled on the edge of a stool beside the large wooden tub. Her hands rested in her lap, and her fingers intertwined in a silent display of anxiousness as she worried that perhaps she had made a misstep.
"What can you tell me about Aegon?" she whispered, her voice barely a breath as she lifted her gaze to meet Vanesha's. Although the question had initially been to ask about the Queen, Aegon's name slipped from her lips unbidden, surprising even herself.
"Uh," Vanesha stammered, her eyes darting downwards. She squirmed in her seat as if the weight of the inquiry pressed down on her, her discomfort palpable in the air.
"I shouldn't say anything..." Vanesha murmured, the haste in her tone catching Rhiannon off guard like a sudden chill in the warm air.
Rhiannon propped her arms on the tub's edge; she regarded Vanesha intently.
"Why, Vanesha?" Rhiannon asked, her voice steady yet soft, prompting Vanesha to finally look up. Concern etched itself into her features, heightening the gravity of the moment.
"The lady's talk," Vanesha began, the weight of her words hanging in the air. Rhiannon rested her head on her arms, her heart racing as she leaned closer, fully absorbed in Vanesha's recallings.
The flickering candles had burned out, leaving only the crackling fire illuminating the dark room. Rhiannon lay sprawled on her back, her nightshift tangled around her as she flailed like a fish out of water. After a few moments of restless movement, she finally surrendered to the stillness, the warmth of the fire casting soft shadows across her features.
Her eyes gazed blankly into the void, lost in the weight of Vanesha's words. He visits the streets of silk every night, a lecherous drunk with bastards.
A deep sigh escaped her lips, each breath steeped in dread as Daemon's warnings echoed through her mind, a relentless reminder not to underestimate the situation. With a frustrated grunt, Rhiannon rolled onto her side, closing her eyes tightly as she attempted to envision herself back at Dragonstone, cocooned in the comforting embrace of her bed.
"Good morrow, Rhiannon," Vanesha sang out with a bright smile, swinging open the heavy curtains in the dim room. Golden rays of sunlight spilled into the space, casting warm patterns on the walls. Rhiannon groaned softly, burrowing deeper under the soft, comforting blankets, desperately clinging to the last whispers of darkness.
It had already been three moons since her arrival, and in that time, she had witnessed Vanesha transform, revealing layers of herself that were both surprising and endearing. Rhiannon had come to see Vanesha as a true friend and ally in this unfamiliar place. Helaena, her aunt, was another source of comfort, though Rhiannon felt a distance there; she knew that her aunt was wrestling with her own troubles.
"Not yet," Rhiannon mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper, as she became aware of the gentle clink of the tea tray being placed on her desk.
"Sadly, yes, my lady," Vanesha replied, a playful smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she expertly began to pour Rhiannon's tea just the way she knew she liked it—steaming and perfectly steeped, with a hint of honey swirling into the rich, golden hue.
Ever since the feast, Rhiannon had found herself longing to see Aegon again. Their encounters had dwindled to mere fleeting moments—brief eye contact before she was whisked away. In the quiet hours after sunset, she made it a point to visit the King in his chambers, hoping to read to him as she had so many times before. Yet, each time she approached, the Queen and the Hand would gently but firmly insist that he was resting, their voices laced with the authority that left little room for her persistence.
In her solitude, Rhiannon poured her thoughts into letters addressed to Daemon, sharing her frustrations and theories, but to her dismay, no reply ever came—not a single word. The only correspondences that filled her days were those from her mother and siblings, their warm messages inquiring with genuine concern about her well-being and how she was faring in this unfamiliar court.
Suddenly, a sharp knock echoed through the room, causing Vanesha to pause mid-pour. She glanced toward Rhiannon, who had now propped herself up in bed, the soft blanket slipping from her grasp as she straightened. Curiosity flickered in her eyes at the unexpected interruption.
"Enter," Rhiannon called out, a note of confusion lingering in her voice as she stepped gracefully from her bed. She reached for her silk robe, wrapping it tightly around herself. One of the Queen's lady maids entered with a deep bow. She announced that the Queen wished to break fast together this morning.
Rhiannon turned to Vanesha, who was carefully setting down a steaming pot of tea on the small wooden table. A moment of understanding passed between them, a mix of uncertainty and apprehension weaving through the air. With a nod of agreement, Rhiannon dismissed the maid, instructing her to tell the Queen that she would indeed be there.
Once the door clicked shut, a heavy silence enveloped the room. Rhiannon and Vanesha exchanged uneasy glances.
"What could she want?" Vanesha wondered aloud, her brow furrowing as she watched Rhiannon hastily discard her robe and slip behind the dressing screen.
"I don't know, but I must be prepared for anything," Rhiannon replied, her voice tinged with urgency. "Quickly, help me get dressed; the queen has little patience for delays." Vanesha nodded sharply, her heart racing as she rushed to assist the princess, carefully arranging the lavish fabrics and delicate embellishments.
As Rhiannon navigated the long, dimly lit corridors. A curious shift occurred as she opened her chamber doors, the two guards who had once shadowed her every move had transformed into a singular presence. She pondered whether they had deemed her a harmless nuisance rather than a potential threat now that the taller guard, Ser Ronard, had stepped back into the shadows leaving only Ser Morsh.
Before long, she found herself seated in the chambers of the Queen, a delicate cup of tea and an assortment of food laid out before her by a silent servant, who then withdrew into the shadows, leaving only the two women.
"Is everything to your liking?" The Queen inquired, her voice smooth and refined as she raised her delicate cup to her lips, taking a sip gracefully. Rhiannon nodded, her heart racing as she wrestled with unease.
"Yes, thank you, Your Grace, for all you have done to make me feel so welcomed," Rhiannon replied, her smile brightening her delicate features. She had grown adept at masking her true emotions, expertly donning a facade to please those around her—a skill that, as Vanesha noted, had become all too polished.
"I'm glad to hear that. Have you received any word from your mother?" the Queen inquired, her keen gaze fixed on Rhiannon as she delicately sipped her tea, the warm porcelain cradled in her hands.
Rhiannon nodded, her eyes shimmering with joy. "I have, Your Grace. She writes to share such wonderful news—she is once again with child." Her wide smile radiated genuine happiness.
"I'm hoping for a girl this time," Rhiannon added eagerly, the anticipation evident in her voice. The Queen set her tea down, her interest piqued as she regarded the young woman before her.
"Have you heard from Daemon?" she asked, her expression thoughtful as she studied Rhiannon closely, seeking the truth behind those carefully cultivated smiles. Rhiannon felt her muscles tense, a sensation she knew the Queen noticed as well.
"I have not, but it's not unheard of to go without news from him," Rhiannon replied, forcing the words out as a lie. Deep down, she felt the weight of uncertainty. It was so unlike Daemon not to communicate, especially after they had discussed their plans.
"Hmm, he is very... unpredictable," the Queen said, carefully choosing her words. A brief, knowing smile flickered across her lips. All Rhiannon could manage was a nod, yet a nagging suspicion simmered within her. The Queen and the Hand of the King likely had a hand in Daemon's silence; how else could they have known that she had sent him letters? The thought gnawed at her insidiously as she delicately sipped her tea, engaging in polite small talk with the Queen. Yet, despite her efforts to maintain a façade of composure, an unsettling mood enveloped them, thickening the air with tension.
That night after supper, Rhiannon lay awake in bed, her gaze drawn to the glowing moon casting silvery beams through her window. Thoughts swirled in her mind, racing back to the unexpected breakfast she had shared with the Queen earlier that day. What could be her true intentions? It became increasingly apparent to Rhiannon that both the Queen and the hand were scheming to exert their influence through the kingdom. She couldn't help but notice how rarely the King attended council meetings or held discussions with the common folk.
Suddenly, a strange noise pierced the quiet, jolting Rhiannon upright in her bed. Her heart quickened as she scanned her dimly lit room, but nothing appeared out of the ordinary. With a resigned sigh, she sank back into her pillows, only to be startled again by that same unsettling sound. This time, irritation flared within her, and she sat up once more, turning to see what might be lurking in the shadows beside her. To her shock, she found herself face to face with none other than Aegon.