Unintended

Chapter Four

Rhaenyra had a plan on the third day of the royal hunt. The plan involved having a few goblets of wine as she endured the endless gossip from the noblewomen and then finding a way to get Ser Harwin alone. The only issue was that she had not expected to accomplish the second part of her plan. Ser Criston had been hovering more so than usual, his mood sour. She had thought at first that he was annoyed he was missing out on the hunt, his duty to her requiring him to remain at camp. But as he continued to hover, even in the safety of the royal tents, she began to grow irritated.

It was nearly impossible for her to slip out from under his watchful gaze. He had been such a constant presence in her life over the past several years that she had not realized she hardly spent any time without him until she was actively attempting to get away. Even at the Keep, when she would successfully sneak off to search for Ser Harwin, Ser Criston found her quickly. 

And now Rhaenyra was alone, staring at Ser Harwin across a fire in the woods, wondering why she could not seem to hold one normal conversation with him. She had wanted to get him alone and was desperate to speak with him without the risk of anyone eavesdropping, but the conversation had quickly devolved into uncomfortable territory.

"You still do not have to go through with it. I meant what I said before, I will not force you to do anything you do not wish."

"No, I-" she sighed, frustrated. How could he not realize what she meant? Why did the words refuse to slip from her tongue? He was not forcing her to do anything, she wanted him, and what she needed to know was if he wanted her as well. "I thought we had an understanding."

"Yes, I recall."

"And... you still agree with it?" she asked hesitantly. She hoped he would say no, that he would confess he had always wanted more. That he, too, lay awake at night thinking of the future, with their many children running around the Keep and lazy mornings wrapped in each other's embrace. Rhaenyra had spent weeks trying to rid herself of the thought, dismissing it as a fleeting fantasy, but as time went on she had to admit to herself that her feelings for him were quite serious.

"Of course", he replied, but he was avoiding her gaze. "If that is what you want, then we are still in agreement." The words were like knives to her chest. It was not what she wanted anymore, a loveless, arranged marriage.

"I expect there won't be much of a choice once we return. Out all night unchaperoned? The gossip will be quite scandalous. My father will have us wed within a fortnight." She was gauging his reaction, searching for any sign of dismay or excitement, but whatever he felt was expertly concealed, his expression revealing nothing.

"There is still time to return tonight, if you wish to delay the wedding further." Rhaenyra stiffened. Did he wish to delay the wedding further? She did not want to make him feel as though he had no choice but to go along with whatever she did, though she was unsure how that was possible given their circumstances. He would have to wed her at some point, it really did not seem to matter when the wedding occurred. But she selfishly longed for him to be entirely hers as soon as possible.

"No", she replied. "It does not matter if it is two weeks or two years from now, we both agreed to it. No sense in putting it off again."

"Right." It was silent for several moments and Rhaenyra tucked the cloak tightly around her body, inhaling the scent that lingered. His cloak smelled of fresh leather with a hint of citrus she always picked up on whenever he was close to her. She wondered if it would be improper to inquire after what soaps he used so she could always have the scent in her chambers. She was growing tired, settling her weight against the log as her eyelids began to flutter.