The morning sun filtered through the godswood, spilling pale light across white stone paths and clipped hedges heavy with summer roses.
Birds sang somewhere beyond the walls, almost loud enough to drown the distant sounds of the castle waking.
Rhaenyra lingered beneath an old elm, watching from several paces away.
Viserys stood beside Alicent while Daemon faced them, still dressed in the dark leathers and armor he had worn home from the Stepstones.
Viserys said with a smile “Daemon, he would venture off, abroad, winning tournaments…” Daemon gave an amused snort.
“No, no, no…”
“I will not revisit this debate,” Viserys interrupted, already smiling.
Then Viserys’s expression softened.
“You were always Mother’s favorite.” A reluctant smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“Our mother had little regard for custom, For tradition, For rules.”
Viserys laughed quietly.
“And I, sadly was never much of a warrior.” The brothers shared another laugh.
Rhaenyra watched them.
It had always fascinated her how easily the two of them became boys again whenever they were together.
She stepped forward.
“Congratulations on your victory, Uncle.” Daemon inclined his head.
“Thank you, Princess.” Alicent stepped neatly into the pause.
“Perhaps Prince Daemon would care to see the royal gallery?” Her smile was perfectly courteous.
“His Grace has recently acquired several fine tapestries from Norvos and Qohor.”
Viserys laughed aloud.
“Would you like to see the tapestries, brother?” Daemon barked a laugh.
“I think not.” Rhaenyra spoke before anyone else could.
“I’d like to see them.” Viserys looked at her, still smiling.
“Well then…”
“…you should not deprive yourself.”
It was meant as a jest.
Rhaenyra did not take it that way.
“I shall enjoy them.”
“Alone.” She turned and walked away.
“Rhaenyra—” Viserys called after her.
She did not stop.
Alicent watched her go for a heartbeat before quietly following.
Rhaenyra heard footsteps behind her.
She did not turn.
Alicent caught up a moment later.
“Have you come on Father’s behalf?”Rhaenyra asked.
Alicent did not answer.
They walked together in silence for several paces Finally Alicent spoke.
“I find I have…
few friends lately.” Rhaenyra kept walking.
“I like to believe I am still the Lady Alicent.” A faint, rueful smile crossed the queen’s face.
“But when people look at me now…” Enjoying the story? Read on at g.com.
“…they see only the Queen.” Silence stretched between them.
“I’ve missed you.” Rhaenyra stopped.
“So have I.” Alicent’s smile became genuine.
“I’ve missed you, too.”
Later, twilight bled across the sky, washing the inner courtyards in bruised shades of purple and deep blue.
The castle had quieted.
Only the distant murmur of servants and the occasional cry of gulls drifted over the walls.
Daemon stood alone beside the old well, one hand resting upon its weathered stone.
He seemed perfectly at ease in the silence.
Rhaenyra crossed the courtyard toward him.
He heard her footsteps but did not turn.
She stopped a few paces away.
“What do you want?” she asked in High Valyrian, her voice calm.
Only then did Daemon glance over his shoulder.
A faint smile touched his lips.
“The comforts of home.” Rhaenyra folded her arms.
“I had not thought you particularly comfortable in this home.”
“No.” He looked back toward the darkening sky.
“I suppose time abroad has changed me.”
“So it has.” Rahenyra smiled.
A corner of Daemon mouth lifted.
“You’ve matured.” The word lingered between them.
“My mother was made to bear heirs until it killed her.” Her voice remained even.
“I would not choose that fate for myself.” Daemon’s expression lost its amusement.
“What happened to your mother was a tragedy.”
“But this is a tragic world.” He looked at her steadily.
“You cannot live your life in fear or you will forsake the best parts of it.” Rhaenyra held his gaze.
“I have no desire to live in fear.” She looked away toward the fading light.
“Only solitude.” Daemon regarded her for another moment.
“Such a lonely prospect.”
He pushed away from the well and began walking slowly through the courtyard.
After only the briefest hesitation, Rhaenyra fell into step beside him.
“The city has changed,” Daemon said.
“No?” Rhaenyra glanced at him.
He looked toward the walls of King’s Landing beyond the castle.
“You know only the city your father allows you to see.
The criers.
The petitions.
The court.”
He shook his head.
“That is not true King’s Landing.” Follow the newest chapters on g.com.
“Good night, Ser Criston,” Rhaenyra said, pausing at the threshold of her chambers.
Ser Criston Cole inclined his head, one hand resting lightly upon the pommel of his sword.
“Sleep well, Princess.” She offered the faintest smile before stepping inside.
The chamber was quiet, lit only by the glow of a handful of candles.
She closed the door behind her, expecting another lonely evening of books and silence.
Instead, something unfamiliar rested upon the table.
A neatly folded bundle of dark, coarse-spun clothes.
Nothing fit for a princess.
A plain wool tunic, worn leather breeches, sturdy boots, and a heavy cloak dyed nearly black.
Beside them lay a small strip of folded parchment.
She unfolded it.
If you wish to see King’s Landing as it truly is…
Come to the postern gate by the Mud Gate.
Midnight.
Night had fallen completely when the castle settled into silence.
Rhaenyra slipped through a little-used postern gate near the Mud Gate.
Gone were the silks of a princess.
She wore coarse wool breeches, a plain dark tunic, sturdy boots, and a heavy cloak that concealed her silver-gold hair beneath its hood.
Daemon waited beyond the gate, he dressed as any other man wandering the streets of King’s Landing.
Without a word, he turned.
She followed, the two disappeared into the sleeping city.
Elsewhere, deep within the Red Keep, another knock disturbed the silence.
Viserys looked up from the documents spread across his desk.
“Enter.” Otto Hightower stepped into the royal chambers, still dressed despite the late hour.
“I apologize for the early hour, Your Grace.”
Viserys let out a tired sigh.
“What is it now?
Is it the Sea Snake” Otto’s expression remained carefully composed.
“I have discomforting news, i thought it best shared discreetly before the council convenes.
Otto shook his head.
“I am afraid it concerns the princess, Your Grace.”
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