Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
VISERYS. You wouldn't be a broodmare. You'd be a mother. ALYSANNE. Some men can't tell the difference.
As the sun rose high into the sky, the Queen's chambers filled with the rustlings of fabrics and scrapings of trunks across stone floors. With bated breath, a young handmaid reached out and knocked on the great wooden doors before her.
"Come."
Upon her entry, the handmaid saw the Queen pacing the floor. Wisps of gray hair had fallen from the knot at the back of her head, and the lines in her face seemed all the more prominent as she furrowed her brows.
The Queen glanced up and sighed. "Alysanne."
"Your Grace." The handmaid bowed her head. "You called for me?"
The Queen continued her pacing as she said, "I have already asked the dragonkeepers to ready Silverwing. I am to leave for Dragonstone in the hour."
The handmaid frowned. "Dragonstone?"
The Queen stopped pacing to say, "You know that Jaehaerys has passed over Rhaenys for the succession, and made Baleon his heir. I have voiced my displeasure, but in vain."
"And you're leaving for Dragonstone?"
"I told my husband that if he believed women lack the wit to rule, then he has no need for me."
The handmaid began to smile. "You have been a steadfast advisor to the King, Your Grace."
"We shall see how wise he is without his lady wife at his side," the Queen replied.
A smile graced her lips then, and she stepped closer to the handmaid, who averted her gaze. She flinched as the Queen laid a hand on her cheek, but soon her shoulders sagged, and she let out a breath.
"You and I are much alike," the Queen murmured. "Not only in name."
"Thank you, Your Grace," Alysanne whispered. "I can only hope I am as honorable as the Good Queen herself."
