The Sapphire Prince | Aemond Targaryen |

15.

Two weeks had gone by since the whole stabbing situation between Aemond and Verena. And in those two weeks, barely anyone had seen her. Primarily Verena devoted her days to meetings with the Lords in order to further benefit Aegon or in Bralia running her own problems through her kingdom.

For those two weeks, Verena remained cold and distant from even those she greatly cared about. Thanatos and Allora barely spoke to her or saw her, and when they did it was either because she was leaving on dragon back or arriving back for another meeting.

It was an unfamiliar sight for them both. To never see her smile or crack joke. They never saw any emotion on her face except for tiredness and dread.

Many assumed her new behaviour was due to Aemond and Lady Baratheon publicly flaunting their new love for one another. When Aemond had healed, it was her that stayed by his side. The pair strolled round the castle side by side lost in conversation.

Verena felt everyone against her, the suspicious glances exchanged by everyone who would see her in the halls, the whispers that followed.

Her life was devoured by darkness, not one of anger alone, though that was certainly there as well. It was a dreadful, bleak darkness of unimaginable loneliness and despair that overwhelmed her. She just couldn't put into words how alone she felt, not even Allora or Thanatos could understand.

Only her dragons provided her with comfort, especially when they huddled around her as she sobbed. It was not only Verena affected by everything but them as well.

And that guilt?

That because of her they suffered the pain that consumed her, even more broke her. She was always hurting people, always disappointing them, and left by them.

The fact that she would even pay attention to such feelings seemed pathetic, but everything took over her.

Verena sat at the edge of the great table for supper. The first supper she had joined in two weeks. Her mind was focused on the events that had transpired hours ago in her own kingdom.

Now she was completely broken while waiting for Cregan Stark, her deceased husband's older brother to arrive at her throne room along with his father.

Verena knew she would instantly break upon seeing him seeing as a few days ago a letter had arrived that he and his father were set to arrive to Bralia in a matter of two days. Feeling overwhelmed with shame she simply wanted to turn them away and write back that they were not welcome. But Rickon Stark would never believe that is truly what she desired.

"Your grace," Cregan Stark entered her throne room along with his father.

"Verena," Lord Stark softly spoke her name with a smile. She had to remind herself to hold her strong image.

"My Lord." Verena simply bowed her head.

Lord Stark stood puzzled at her behaviour towards him, he was even more puzzled seeing the state his previous daughter-in-law was in. No emotions were evident in her sunken eyes, the deep circles that presented themselves, she wore clothing of black and green with a dagger strapped to her hip.

If Verena didn't speak he would believe her to be dead. She looked like a corpse risen from the grave.

And the only thing Lord Stark felt was complete and utter anger.

"What have they done to you?" he forcefully grit through his teeth, trying to keep his rage in control.

"Is there something you need from me, My Lord?" Verena questioned with a hostile tone.