Stark

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Chapter Ninety Three~ Stark

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Rhaella was preparing for her flight north when Larys strong emerged from the shadows.

"Princess." Larys smiled, teeth yellow and eyes hungry.

"My Lord." Rhaella sighed, rolling her eyes. "What can I do for you?"

"I am the master of whispers my lady, that means I pick up information through the whistle of the wind and the cups of fools." Larys began. "I am not short of eyes, wherever I may be my ears are planted in fruitful places."

Rhaella sighed, "Is there a meaning to this?"

"Forgive me princess, what I am trying to say is that I received news of that your children's dragons were taken from the pit on the night of their deaths." Larys said.

No.

No, no, no.

This could not be happening.
Rhaella should have thought this through more, Larys strong was like a virus and she should have been smarter to let herself get infected.

"I heard they were killed in the storming of the pit." Rhaella said, furrowing her brow.

"They were the clutch of four were they not, from Dreamfyre?" Larys smiled. "I remember because the colours of their shells were all so different." He took a step closer. "Blue, white, purple, green."

Rhaella did not let her face falter. "No my lord, the eggs were two green and two blue." She lied. "But thank you for your concern."

Larys bowed his head. "Of course Princess, it just occurred to me that, considering the three bodies of your children were never found, and their dragons were taken the same night they were apparently slain, and then the fourth beast disappearing during the weeks your babe was due, I thought it may be a matter for the king, considering the suspicious circumstances."

Rhaella knew she had a problem here. If there was speculation that her children lived then they would be found and returned to court.

But their time was not yet.

"Forgive me my Lord, but whenever I think of their dear faces it causes me distress, and considering I am preformed duty for the king, I believe my mind should be clear." She said, pain striking her voice.

"Of course my Lady." Larys sighed, eyes lingering on her breast.

"I might think you meant it if you looked into my eyes." Rhaella bit.

It was then she missed Aemond again.

She could've gone to him now, and told him of Larys' perversion, and her husband would have returned with his sword and butchered the man that dared look at her this way, and she would revel in his love as the blood of the last strong sprayed across her skin at her husband's hand.

But that would never be.

And as she saddled her beast and instructed him to rise into the air, she knew.

She knew that Larys strong was a problem she had to deal with.

Her flight toward the northmen grew colder and colder the closer she got.

Finding them was not difficult, considering it was a march of twenty thousand men.

They had set up camp.
Fires Burn, men whored, food cooked on open flame.

But their enjoyment during war did not stop their fears echoing over the fields as they saw the bronze fury flying over them.

Rhaella thought for a moment about burning them all, they were not ready for the attack and the northmen were known for their brutality, not their archery skill.

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