𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 | 𝐝𝐚𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧.

𝐈𝐈𝐈. 𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐈𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇

A/N: Also known as chapter where Henrietta cusses and yells at everyone.

"But who? Who was at fault, when prince Aemond lost his eye?"

"They say it was princess Rhaenyra's son, but I think it just theories. How about Rhaenyra herself?"

"Oh, seven Gods! You are onto something!"

/

When Henrietta made her way to the source of the scream, the main hall was the tangled mess of cries, hisses and panicked people. There was a long trace of blood on the floor, coming from the southeast wing, and her sister was found kneeling on her floor, beside Aemond. She seemed fine, but it wasn't something to say about her nephew.

His eye. And blood. Blood, so much blood, and—

'Anri!' Alicent roared painfully, violent sobs leaving her chest as she tried to reach her with the hand that wasn't gripping Aemond's shoulder. 'I am begging you, do something... Please, you know what to do. You should...'

The last time she saw so much blood, it was because... Henrietta gulped. She had no room for emotions or memories right now.

Breathe in and out. She can do that.

Her whistle surged everyone to stop on their places, turning to her side. Pointing at panicking maids, she ordered:

'You, bring me the aid and the poppy milk.' Eyes travelling at unknown people standing there, clearly for the show, Henrietta barked: 'Out from there. What are you looking at?!'

As everyone scrambled back, there stayed only eight people in the room, including herself. Poor, half unconscious Aemond, her cousin by his side, two dark-haired boys, who should be Rhaenyra's, Daemon, who went straight to his daughters' side, and... Oh. Was it Criston Cole? She completely forgot about his existence.

'Kids, do you have injures?' Henrietta used a free minute on asking these kids, who were scared, shivering like stray dogs.

She had no a single idea how exactly all of them managed to do what happened, but still... They were kids.

'His nose is broken,' one of them muttered unsurely, pointing at the youngest.

Lucerys, probably?

'Can you wait a little bit?' He nodded, and Henrietta sighed.

The layer of her coat, the one that she draped over her nightgown, started to feel too much. Before she even managed to start to pull it off, Daemon suddenly waltzed through the room, stopping behind her, helping with it. If not for her mind racing with too many thoughts, Henrietta would probably hiss at him.

Not time, not time.

'Alicent,' she slowly sank on the floor, before Aemond, 'can you step away for a while? I need to do my work.'

Alicent nodded wordlessly.

'Hey, Aemond,' making her voice softer, Henrietta started carefully pushing strands of the hair out of his face, afraid that they will get to stick to his bloody face. 'Are you keeping up here, darling?'

He nodded weakly, the healthy eye blinking slowly as if he was about to fall asleep here and now. Henrietta's brows knitted together, examining his face. Even now, she could say for sure, his second eye will not be saved.

'You are a very brave boy, Aemond,' she soothed him, nodding gratefully to the maids, who returned finally. At first, she put the cup of warm poppy milk to his slightly open lips. 'You know, when I was on the war, there was a terrible accident. One of our soldiers injured his eye in the battle, just like you. But, oh, he was screaming so loudly! Not like you. You are so silent, Aemond. I think Alicent screamed more than you, m-m?'