Revenge - Aemond Targaryen x OC

Chapter 21 - A Future Queen

Later, Amyra would hear of the infamous dinner. Almost the whole of the royal family, together at one table, for what was likely their last dinner with the King. She heard of Helaena's dance with Jacaerys and of the betrothal of Rhaenyra's sons to Daemon's daughters. The subsequent toasts were described to Amyra in great detail by Helaena, Dyana, and a footman prone to migraines. A joyful affair they all agreed- until Prince Aemond stood. Apparently, he'd made quite the scene, goading his nephews into a fight, and pushing the future heir to the throne to the floor.

Rash, and entirely unnecessary.

Amyra did not know whether to feel accomplished for so thoroughly rankling him, or annoyed by his pathetic display of temper.

Though, the use of 'strong' in his toast was rather funny. I'd of liked to see his face as he said it.

She imagined he smiled bitterly, with that roguish gleam in his eye.

Yet, before Amyra knew any of this, she was summoned before the Queen.

She debated running if indeed Queen Alicent knew what she had done. Yet, if she did, she was quite sure she would not receive a summons- Ser Criston Cole himself would be breaking down her door. No, she surmised, Aemond had not yet told his mother of what she had done.

The herald led her to a common chamber, richly decorated with smoking fireplaces and cushy chairs, but only two people enjoyed its finery. Inside, Amyra spotted a white-haired woman, several months pregnant, and behind her an equally white-haired man. Amyra's steps slowed, her heart beginning to race.

Princess Rhaenyra, and her husband, the Rogue Prince.

Through another set of doors entered the Queen, two Kingsguard at her back, though neither of them for were Ser Criston, Amyra noted.

Interesting.

"Rhaenyra," Alicent said in greeting, "Daemon," she nodded to them both, stopping before the couple. Rhaenyra did not rise from her seat before the fire. Daemon, did not bow.

"Your grace," she responded, suspicious. Daemon stood behind her, looking ready to take up the sword at his side- the sword, she realized. Dark Sister, wielded once by Visenya Targaryen, in the conquering age. How much blood had coated its perfectly polished blade? Vaemond Velaryon's most recently, that much Amyra knew.

The herald stopped before the Queen, Amyra silent at his heels. Alicent turned, dismissing the herald with a nod. As he left Amyra curtsied, first to the Queen and then to the heir, trying to school her features into that blank neutrality servants so readily wore. It did not come so naturally to her.

"So this is the peace offering you speak of?" Daemon scoffed, sounding possibly like the most arrogant man Amyra had ever heard. A startling feat, for she had met many. He gestured at Amyra with one hand, his other clasped loosely on Dark Sister's hilt.

Peace offering? Like I am a sack of gold?

Queen Alicent's lips pressed thinly, the same way they did when she found Helaena overly vexing, "Amyra is in my employ as a midwife. She has been paramount in caring for Princess Helaena during her pregnancy. In fact, I have never seen a labor with so little fuss, nor take so little time."

Rhaenyra looked at her, neither suspicious nor pleased, only assessing. The Realm's Delight was indeed beautiful, in the sharp, Old-Valyrian sort of way. "And what is it you'd have me do with her?" Rhaenyra asked the Queen, looking up at Alicent with something....well Amyra was not sure. Yet, it was not a look she thought many gave to their Queen.