ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʀᴋ ꜱɪꜱᴛᴇʀ - House of the Dragon

CHAPTER NINE

I was never having children.

I hated them, I was sure of it.

But when Joffrey came to my bedchambers dragging a very much amused Lucerys and a wooden bowl of flour with him, begging me to help them with something, I could not say no.

Firstly because I was curious with whatever those two were up to. Secondly because I was never able to say no to Lucerys' puppy eyes.

The laughter I let out when they told me their plan bounced against the stone walls of my quarters, and, as a troublemaker myself, I was fast to follow them both around with a smile of my own.

As we reached Jacaerys' bedchambers, which was surprisingly far from mine, Joffrey began commanding Luke and I what to do in a very high-pitched voice. The second youngest's head must have hurt for all the times he had rolled his eyes to the back of it, but he followed Joff's commands with no complain, gaining a wink and a smile from me when Joffrey howled and hugged him and thanked him for his help.

I was left to deal with the bowl of flour, since I was the oldest.

"And the one who doesn't have a sense of danger." Lucerys mocked when I asked.

I could've smack his head, if he hadn't ran away right after I lifted my arm. Smart bastard.

Joffrey yelled and pinched my thighs, looking for the confidence he thought I could give him, and asked and asked and asked until the only thing in my mind was that damn bowl and the moment I decided to help them both. I had to take deep breaths in order to remain calm. But I could never yell back at him.

It could not be so complicated, if only I was as tall as the statues in the Throne Room. Since I was not, I needed someone at least half the height of the doors. The answer came to us in a shiny armour and frowned brows.

Ser Arryk, Ser Erryk's twin brother and clearly one of the most devoted knights to Alicent and the Greens, stood at the door with zero intentions to even look in our direction. Too bad for him. We were two princes and a princess after all. Not only that. The Heir's second, third and fourth born. Ser Arryk couldn't have done nor said anything if we decided he was to help us.

After a few threats and flying knives and glowing, teared up eyes from Joffrey, Ser Arryk allowed me to climb to his shoulders, resting his hands on the back of my legs in order to steady me and complaining all the time I spent in the air. Lucerys stood behind him, arms ready in case I fell back, as Joffrey made watch on the door.

I forced the knight to promise to Joffrey he was not to snitch on us to Jace, and, as Lucerys and I hid in the eldest chamber's, the boy ran through the halls looking for our brother with the ghost of a giggle on his lips. I could not hide my smile, as the scent of Jacaerys everywhere curled the corner of my lips up.

"What?"

"I was just imagining his face." I said, feeling at peace when Luke giggled, covering his mouth with his hand and leaning his head on my shoulder, tickling my cheeks with his dark curls.

"He is going to be so mad."

"He will." I agreed, laughing myself.

Joffrey did the signal, yelling my name in his childish and hurtful voice, and ran into the room giggling as a boy of six would do. The wooden doors were not entirely closed, so he was able to get inside without moving it and through the bowl to the ground. Jace, on the other hand, was not that little.

His usual dark brown hair, a bit longer since he had finally decided to grow it, turned white as he coughed and spat flour everywhere. His clothing, a black and red suit Luke and I gifted him for his last nameday, was also white as a ghost.