𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖘𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖔𝖓
❛ he would burn down
the world if it meant
keeping her safe ❜
━━ IN WHICH a dangerous prince falls in love with the gentle lioness, the girl prophesied to end the war he started
SHOW;...
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THE SILVER-eyed Queensguard followed Alysanne in silence, his heavy armor jangling softly, the harsh sounds echoing in the damp corridor. "May I ask you a question, Ser?"
The discordant tone of Alysanne's voice startled her, her hand raising to cup her throat as her steps faltered. The knight stepped to the side to avoid colliding with Alysanne, his hands hovering just around her elbows as if to steady her. "Of course, my Lady."
Alysanne cleared her throat as she resumed her previous pace, her slippers tapping softly on the stone floors as she navigated the unfamiliar corridors of Dragonstone with unease. "How long have I been here?"
The knight inhaled softly, a moment of silence following Alysanne's question as he guided her around a corner and down a narrow set of stairs. "Half a fortnight, my Lady."
A week?! Alysanne's eyes widened as she and the knight approached a set of heavy wooden doors. Alysanne stared at the beautifully intricate carving of a three-headed dragon beneath the guard's hand, her lips twisting as if she had something sour on her tongue.
She used to look upon the Targaryen sigil with such adoration and awe.
Her eyes screwed shut as the guard pushed open the doors, his voice carrying through the feasting hall as he announced Alysanne's arrival.
Across the room flickered a dying fire, the embers glowing a deep, brilliant red as Alysanne slowly stepped into the room. It was cold and quiet, the sun barely peeking above the horizon, the last of its dying rays filtering in through the large, ornamental windows that lined the far wall.
Her gaze was drawn to the small, intimate table situated just before the dying fire. Alysanne gulped upon seeing the heads of silver and brown, her swollen eyes locked on the tufts of mousy brown hair situated at the head of the table. His face was hidden, but Alysanne knew who it was.
Fear twisted her gut as she slowly entered the room, her eyes lowering the moment she saw Jace's head turn in her direction. She stared at her feet, at her black shoes as they peeked from the hem of her gown.
Wooden chairs scraped across the stone floor as Alysanne drifted to a stop just behind the only empty chair at the table. In her brief assessment of those seated at the table, she had counted only two heads of silver hair.
He's not here, she told herself as she desperately tried to calm the trembling of her hands. He's not here.
"Lady Alysanne," a familiar, regal voice murmured, kindness softening the harsh edges of her worn voice. Alysanne dared to lift her gaze, her eyes locking with Rhaenyra's as the queen stood. Weariness darkened her lilac eyes, her pale hand still cradling her empty womb as she gestured at the empty chair across from herself with a tired smile. "Please, sit."
