The tale of Ice and Fire

Chapter Fifteen

King's Landing, 283 AC

“Your majesty.” Iclyn said with a small curtsy, as he entered the room. Aiana was his constant companion, always helping him with everything he needed.

“Iclyn! My favourite good-daughter!” the king said, making a hand gesture to let the northerner raise from his curtsy.

“I'm your only good-daughter.” the princess answered with a fake smile. He had learned to go along with the king's mood, if he wanted to keep the madness at bay.

The king chuckled, delighted by his good-daughter's joke. “Sit. Sit, my dear. Don't stress yourself more than you need to.” he said,  watching Aiana help the northerner on the comfy chair.

“Thank you, your grace.” he said politely. At seven moons pregnant he couldn't stand for more than fifteen minutes without his back or feet hurting.

“Tell me, Iclyn. How's the little one?” he asked, excited. From the look in his eyes, Iclyn understood that the king was asking about the dragon, the one he hadn't seen yet.

“Jehar is well, my king. He's growing strong every day.” he said, taking a lemon tart. Oh, gods! How had he missed lemon tarts! Nothing compared to the ones cooked in the capital's kitchens.

“Your grace.” he said, after a few moments of silence. “Why am I here? Have you received a letter from Rhaegar? Is he okay?” the northerner asked in concern, while trying to soothe the active baby in his womb.

The king's expression immediately changed into a pitiful one. “Oh, my dear...” he began, raising from the chair in front of Iclyn and sitting in the one next to his. Aerys took the princess' hand in his and continued “I'm so sorry for what I'm about to tell you. I wished I didn't have to give you this grave news, but unfortunately, I have to.”

Iclyn furrowed his eyebrows, confused. What did the king have to say that was so severe to warrant such seriousness? Was the prince injured?

Oh, Gods! Was Rhaegar dead?

No. No. If his husband was dead he would have felt it. Right?

Iclyn's mind was racing with a million unanswered questions.

The king took one deep breath. “I received a raven more than a moon ago, from the Stormlands. At first, I didn't want to believe it, but I had it confirmed. Lady Baratheon...” he continued, but was interrupted by the northerner.

“Lyanna? Is she okay?” he quickly asked, concerned about his big sister's health.

“No, not her. Lady Selyse Baratheon.” he specified. “She wrote about Rhaegar. She...” he paused, making Iclyn's anxiety skyrocket.

“What happened, your grace? Is Rhaegar okay?” he asked again, the baby in his belly was kicking no stop, picking up their mother's anxiety. Iclyn's heart was beating loudly.

“My wayward son has kidnapped your sister.” the king blurted out. “Well, actually, Lady Selyse  claimed they ran away together.” Hearing the king's words, Iclyn's heart skipped a beat. He couldn't believe Aerys' words. No. Not Rhaegar.

He knew his sister was beautiful and sought by men, but he couldn't believe his husband would leave him for Lyanna. He knew his sister wouldn't let herself be kidnapped by no one, after all, he had helped her training and she had beaten his ass many times. Could they have left together?

Iclyn knew his sister didn't love her husband, fucking pervert Baratheon, but he didn't want to believe the people he loved the most had run off together.