Growing Strong ᯽~Ser Harwin Strong~᯽

Honor (Part 2/2)

Princess Rhaenyra summoned you to her chambers shortly after your husband and sons left for the training yard.

You'd been in the middle of reviewing some correspondence from Highgarden when the messenger relayed the notice to you. There were important business matters regarding a recent trade agreement that you wished you had the chance to see to- but you had no choice but to heed the Princess's invitation.

You entered the Princess's chambers quietly, coming to stand beside the wetnurse lingering by the doorway.

The Princess, looking remarkably better than she did the day before, but still by no means back to her normal self just yet, was sitting upon the plush sofa near the foot of her bed. Unsurprisingly, Prince Joffrey was in her arms.

Despite the silent entrance, Princess Rhaenyra noticed you immediately. "Lady Y/N."

You curtseyed. "Your Grace."

To the wetnurse, Princess Rhaenyra said, "Leave us, please."

The woman did as instructed. Once the doors were shut, the room was quiet, save the mewlings of the babe.

When you received word that Princess Rhaenyra wished to speak with you, you had suspected that you were going to have a conversation of much import. And now that the two of you were completely alone- save Prince Joffrey, of course- you knew with absolute certainty that that was to be the case.

The tension in the room was thick.

"Won't you sit?"

Wordlessly, you did as she bid. You lightly sat down beside her, mindful of the distance between you. You did not allow yourself to get too comfortable; you wanted to be prepared to rise to your feet at a moment's notice. Though you could feel the Princess's eyes on you, you did not look at her until she compelled you to do so.

"Y/N."

When you looked up at Princess Rhaenyra, your immediate reaction was to feel sympathy for her. You could tell by the way her face twitched ever so slightly now and then that she was still in a considerable amount of pain. You could empathize with her in that regard. She looked tired; circles under her eyes indicated that, even if the pain had subsided enough to allow her to rest over the course of the night, she had not been able to do so.

"As we are alone," the Princess began knowingly, "I thought we might be able to speak plainly to one another... If you are agreeable to it, that is."

"If that is your wish, Your Grace."

"Y/N-"

"Yes... Rhaenyra," you corrected yourself. The informality of it all felt quite foreign to your tongue.

The Princess smirked at your uncomfortableness. But you could tell by the look in her eyes that she had meant no ill-will by it. She adjusted the babe in her arms and carefully tucked him closer to her. Then, she sat up straighter. You noticed the pain on her face as she did so.

And it was then that you realized, with undeniable relief, that Princess Rhaenyra had truly come to the table. You were finally going to have a conversation that had been brewing for years. A conversation that ought to have been had the day that Prince Jacaerys had been born.

The two of you could have discussed this matter anywhere else, but that was only if she had wanted a discussion to be had at all. Princess Rhaenyra was the Princess, the Heir to the Iron Throne. And you- you had come such a long way since you had first come into her service as a girl. You were the Lady of Highgarden now, the ruling member of House Tyrell, and had earned the same amount of respect as the lords of the other great houses in Seven Kingdoms were due. But, in the eyes of Westeros, you were not Princess Rhaenyra's equal. You never would be.