Blood of Old Valryia (Aemond Targaryen FF)

Chapter Fifty Seven

Aesira returned to her chambers in Maegor's Holdfast.

Ser Gyles walked a step behind her in silence as they made their way through the grand halls of the castle. As they approached her chambers, Aesira turned to Ser Gyles and said, "I hope none of this is a bother for you, Ser Gyles. I'll do whatever I have to, to ensure your job isn't harder than it need be."

Ser Gyles gave her a polite smile, "My lady, this is my duty and it is an honour to serve the King and his kin."

Aesira pursed her lips then gave him a slow nod, "I understand that it is an honour, but that needn't mean it should be difficult."

She knew that by showing concern for his well-being, she could gain his trust and loyalty.

Ser Gyles took up his new post outside of her doors, pulling it shut behind her. Aesira knew that with him assigned to watch over her, she would need to be careful in her movements and ensure that he wasn't reporting to the green council. She made a mental note to be mindful of what she said and did around him, knowing that every action could have consequences.

"Lunch, my lady," Alis gestured to the tray she'd set up on the small table beside the warm bath.

"Thank you." Aesira sang as she strode to the room divider, already undoing the buttons on her dress. The dress was black and gold, with intricate embroidery adorning the bodice and hem. As she undressed, she called out to Alis, "Have I missed anything important?"

"The little Prince Maelor has started crawling." Alis said across the room, "And I believe he's said his first word too."

Aesira pulled on her gown to keep her nakedness covered while she made her way to the bubbling bath. The smell of lavender and rose wafted through the room, and the water was a milky white. Aesira sank into the warm water, letting out a sigh of contentment as she relaxed. "And what was it he said?"

"Mama." Alis said sadly. The little boy was looking for his mother then.

Aesira rested on the lip of the tub and lowered her voice to ask, "How is the princess?"

"Maddened with grief," Alis said gently. "Princess Helaena does not leave her quarters, not even to see the little children. Princess Jaheara looks too much like the son who was slaughtered and Prince Maelor...well, he was the one she named to be killed. She cannot look at him without being reminded that she had chosen him for death. She wails and sobs and tears at her flesh. My Lady, grief and madness is too mild a word for what the Princess Helaena suffers from."

"What word would you use?" Aesira asked carefully.

"Agony."

The word echoed through Aesira as a memory flashed through her mind.

The fifteen-year-old Princess Helaena had placed a hand on her chest and whispered, "Here. But not yet. It's an echo of a pain that must still come to pass. I cannot name it, I cannot describe it. I am in agony."

"It is a kind of suffering I wouldn't wish on my enemy." The Lady's maid sighed.

Rhaenyra grieved Luke's death, surely. But it was nowhere near the pain Helaena felt. She was living a nightmare she'd dreamt of years ago, and yet nothing, no amount of warning, could have prepared her for this. Grief wasn't comparible, and yet, Aesira felt Daemon's response to Luke's death might have been a step too far.

However, saying that Luke's death was not as devastating as Jahaerys' death would be a cruel statement to make.

To Rhaenyra, the ultimate tragedy was to spend thirteen years raising her son, only to have him taken from her in the most gruesome way possible. She had to live with the guilt of knowing that her choice to give him agency to put him on the path that led to his death.