Hers Is The Fury

Prince Of Dorne

[King's Landing - Red Keep, Morgana's Chambers]

Princess Morgana Baratheon sat in her chambers, surrounded by the soft glow of candlelight and the gentle rustling of silken fabrics. She was a picture of grace and beauty, despite the shadows beneath her eyes and the weight of her grief. Her once-vibrant spirit had been dulled by the tragedy that had befallen her family, but she still held on to the hope that her unborn child would bring her new life and purpose.

Her presence was met with sympathetic glances from the courtiers and lords, who whispered among themselves about the fate that had befallen her family. They knew that Morgana was the only survivor of the infamous Red Wedding, where her husband, King Robb Stark, and her mother-in-law, Lady Catelyn, were brutally murdered by the Freys and Boltons on orders of her grandfather, Tywin Lannister, along with their bannerman. This left her alone and vulnerable in this treacherous world.

Despite her grief, Morgana put on a brave face for the sake of her unborn child, carrying herself with dignity and grace. She rarely spoke, preferring to keep her thoughts and emotions locked away, but those who saw her could sense the pain and sorrow that lingered deep within her eyes. Her pregnancy had become a symbol of hope in the midst of despair, a reminder that life continued to flourish even in the darkest of times.

As she walked through the castle, Morgana couldn't help but feel like a ghost haunting the halls, a mere specter of what once was. The laughter and joy that had filled these rooms just a few years ago were now replaced with whispers and secrets, as if everyone was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Even the king himself seemed wary of her presence, as if he feared that she might harm him for his role in the deaths of her family.

Morgana knew that she could not hide away forevr. Her brother, King Joffrey, was set to marry his bride, Margaery Tyrell, and the entire kingdom was abuzz with anticipation. As the sister of the king, Morgana was expected to attend the wedding and play her part in the festivities. But the thought of facing the people who had vehemently opposed her own nuptials, filled her with dread.

Guests had begun to arrive at the castle, their laughter and music drifting up to her chamber like a cruel mockery. How could they celebrate and rejoice while she mourned the loss of her life with Robb? He wasn't dead, but to Morgana, he may as well have been. The cruel hand of fate had forced them apart. But Morgana knew better than to show her true feelings. To do so would invite ridicule and scorn from those who already viewed her as weak and fragile.

Morgana sighed heavily, her hand drifting to her stomach as she felt the first stirrings of movement from within. The baby kicked and rolled within her womb, oblivious to the turmoil that surrounded its future.

The thought of bringing new life into this cruel world filled her with both joy and fear. How could she raise a child in a place where loyalty was a fleeting concept, where those you trusted most could turn against you in an instant?

It was then that she heard the sound of footsteps outside her door, signaling the arrival of her maidservants. She steeled herself for the ordeal ahead, knowing that she must put aside her grief and play the role of the happy sister if only for a little while longer.

With a heavy heart, she donned her finest gown, adorned herself with jewels, and made her way to the grand hall.

As she made her way into the Great Hall, she felt the weight of a hundred judging gazes upon her. They pitied her, these strangers, these acquaintances, these enemies. They saw her swollen belly, the reminder of the life she had lost, and they whispered among themselves. "Poor Morgana," they said, "so tragically widowed." But none of them understood. None of them knew what she had truly lost.