ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʀᴋ ꜱɪꜱᴛᴇʀ - House of the Dragon

CHAPTER TWELVE

"What do you think father would say if he was here?"

Lucerys' quiet voice reached my ears, only gaining a look in return. One that could've meant a million of things. He was carelessly laying on my bed, both his arms behind his head and his blue eyes staring at the ceiling, almost as if it had the answer to every question he had thrown about me and Jacaerys.

On my part, I preferred to stay on the leather couch. There was some boring book on my lap, but it was the last thing I was paying attention to, since every time I focused in whatever sentence the dark letters form, Luke would speak again and again. I was going my best to not traumatize my sweet boy, but he was doing it insanely difficult.

There was some heavy weight lifted from my shoulders, the moment I opened the wooden doors and his little and shy smile brightened the day. Almost as if the gods Alicent worshipped had opened the doors of their heaven for me. I could handle the courts' whispers, perhaps even my mother's disappointment, as long as I had him with me.

"I try not to think about what he would have said of this situation." I admitted, slowly passing the pale yellow page of the book without even reading the last sentence of it. The voice in the back of my head cracked a laughter, sarcastically questioning which father was he referring to. Yet I simply bit down my tongue, savoring the metallic taste of blood in it, and sighed.

The name Aegon caught my attention. Of course, the book was about his and his sister-wives' conquest. I had forgot about it. Never the plot of it, no, since I had read it more times I could count back in Dragonstone and there in the Keep. But the fact that it was that book I had chosen to avoid Luke's pup eyes.

His blue irises were too intense for me, and I knew the sun outside and the hidden stars of the night felt jealous of the bright glow in them. And it was too much for me, feeling the judgement shining in the blue of the skies. Perhaps it wasn't even that, but my mind seemed willing to betray me on that day.

Eventually, perhaps bored or perhaps noticing my discomfort, Lucerys brought his eyes up at the ceiling. Yet I sheltered myself on the old and heavy book.

"But do you love him?" He then asked, leaning on his elbow and fixing his blue eyes on my forehead.

"I believe you know enough, Lucerys."

If he noticed the change in my voice, in the fact I had said his full name, he didn't care.

"Would you have marry him if mother betrothed the two of you?"

"It is never happening, Luke. Jace will marry Baela. End of history. Whatever happened between us is over anyway so." I said, clearing my throat and doing my best to ignore the hurtful kick in my chest.

"But do you think mother would have betrothed you?"

His voice trailed down until it wasn't more than a whisper. A painful thought that haunted me day and night. A dream I could not hold into. An idea I wasn't even willing to think of.

I could only sigh again.

I didn't hear his footsteps nor his noisy breathing, but I felt him carefully dropping his body next to mine, his irises wandering around my face as if he was searching for an unspoken answer. I too felt the weight of his hand on my knee, softly squeezing thrice as if he thought it was all I needed. In reality, it was.

I forced myself to bring my eyes to his, fighting my own smile as his uneven lips grinned the moment my hand found his cheek, delicately stroking my thumb against his slightly freckled skin.

He was too pure to be a Targaryen, too young to be wed, too kind to understand it.

He leaned on my touch, unashamed and even as if he was looking for some sort of comfort only my touch gave him. Eyes glowing with the daylight, shining as brightly as our real father's had long ago.