𝑨 𝑺𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚 𝑭𝒐𝒓 𝑯𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚 // 𝑨𝒆𝒈𝒐𝒏 𝑰𝑰 𝑻𝒂𝒓𝒈𝒂𝒓𝒚𝒆𝒏

80. A Princess's Sorrow, A Prince's Loath And A Queen's Guilt

In the early hours of the morning, the palace kitchens were already bustling with activity. The low hum of the kitchen staff filled the air, punctuated by the occasional clatter of pans or the chopping of vegetables against wooden cutting boards. Josephine, the handmaid to the young Princess Aelys, was among the early risers, preparing breakfast for her young charge.

She moved through the kitchen with practiced efficiency, gathering the necessary ingredients for Aelys's meal. The princess's favorite: warm porridge with honey and fresh berries.

She placed a pot of water on the stove to boil, then turned to the counter where the porridge oats were kept. Carefully, she scooped a measure into a bowl, then added a splash of sweet honey and a sprinkle of cinnamon. As the water heated, she prepared the fresh berries, selecting only the most plump and juicy ones for the princess's bowl.

As Josephine worked, the cook, a stout and cheerful woman named Mabel, approached her.

"Mornin' Sophie," Mabel greeted her, her booming voice filled with a warm, maternal tone. "Is that the breakfast for our lil' Princess Aelys?"

She smiled at Mabel's approach, the older woman always a balm to her tired spirit. She nodded in reply.

"Yes, ma'am. porridge with honey and berries, as she likes it," she responded, adding a few more berries to the bowl.

"Aye, our little Princess does have her favorites, doesn't she? Always a sweet tooth on that child," she said, shaking her head affectionately.

As Mabel spoke, the lighthearted conversation was interrupted by the somber truth of the princess's illness. Everyone in the palace knew of little Aelys's condition and were worried. The usually lively halls seemed somber and subdued.

She quickened her pace, eager to tend to the young princess and check on her condition. "The poor lass. It's hard to see her so unwell, she's such a sweet little thing, always bringing a smile to everyone's face. We all pray she recovers soon."

The young maid nodded in agreement, her own expression mirroring Mabel's concern. She knew better than anyone how much Aelys meant to those around her, especially how her poor mother had reacted to it all.

"The maesters are doing everything they can," she said quietly. The fragility of the princess seemed so out of place in the palace, a constant reminder of life's fragility.

Josephine excused herself from conversations with the kitchen staff, she left the bustling kitchen behind and made her way through the quiet halls towards the princess's chamber. In the early hours of the morning, the halls were mostly empty, save for the occasional guard or early rising member of staff.

Leaving the warm and bustling kitchen behind, Josephine made her way through the silent halls of the palace, each step bringing her closer to Aelys's nursery. The absence of the princess's usual giggles and laughter felt eerie, as if the palace itself was mourning her illness.

Once inside the chamber, Josephine crossed the room to the heavy drapes, the scent of lavender and medicinal herbs hung heavily in the air. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for the sight she knew she would find as she reached the windows. With a firm tug, she pulled back the thick fabric, allowing a shaft of sunlight to pour into the room. The bright light washed over the room, chasing away the shadows and revealing the still, small figure of Princess Aelys in her bed.

A pang of sadness tugged at Josephine's heart as she approached the bedside. The princess looked so tiny, her small frame almost lost against the plush pillows and blankets that surrounded her. Her face, pale and drawn, was a stark contrast to her usual rosy cheeks and bright, curious eyes.