The Queen is dead and her best friend is angry.
Elowen Redfort, Queen Aemma's Lady-in-waiting and closest confidant is in the room when the queen is murdered. Driven by her grief Elowen finds herself in the King's chambers intending to confron...
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The flame from the fireplace was the only light cast around Hightide's Great hall. Enora stood beside her son holding his hand and cooing encouraging words as the Maester stitched the wound where his eye was meant to be closed.
"How could you allow such a thing to happen? I will have answers." Viserys questioned a long dormant flame burning within the King at his son's injury.
"The Princes were supposed to be abed, my King." Ser Harrold answered.
"Who had the watch?"
"I did, Your Grace." Another Kingsguard spoke up, fear clear in his eyes.
"You swore oath to protect and defend my blood!" Viserys roared, his blood boiling in his veins.
"I'm very sorry, Your Grace." Ser Harrold apologized.
"The Kingsguard has never had to defend princes from princes, Your Grace." The white cloak attempted to defend himself and the rest of the Kingguards.
"That is no answer!" Viserys yelled, getting in the knight's face.
"It will heal, will it not?" Elowen asked the Maester as everyone in the room turned awaiting his response. Her heart sunk as the Maester shook his head.
"The flesh will heal," The Maester answered, focused on stitching the wound closed. "But the eye is lost, Your Grace."
"Seven hells," Elowen muttered to herself, she glanced at where all the children had gathered behind her. She attempted to stamp down the fury building in her at Luke's injuries and Rhaena's watery eyes, reminding herself they were also children. At Aemond's whimper of pain, she turned back to her son, grabbing his hand tight and pressing a kiss to the blood stained skin. "I'm here, my dear. You'll be alright." Elowen whispered, without tearing her eyes from her son, she addressed the maester. "Is there nothing more you can give him for the pain?"
"I'm sorry, Your Grace, I've given him all I can."
The doors swung open as Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys flew into the Hall. "What is the meaning of this?"
"Baela? Rhaena?" Princess Rhaenys asked as the two girls ran to their grandmother's side. Elowen stood to her feet as Rhaenys steered her granddaughters back to the Queen. "What has happened?"
"Aemond claimed Vhagar, and Baela, Rhaena, Luke and Jace confronted him when he returned." Elowen softly explained.
Rhaenys glanced down at her granddaughters searching for any sign that Elowen had lied. A fury burned deep in Baela's eyes while Rhaena merely glanced at Aemond, guilt clearly written on her face.
Before Rhaenys could speak, Rhaenyra was rushing into the hall calling for her sons. The brown haired princes ran to their mother's side.
"Who did this?" Rhaenyra questioned upon seeing her son's blood stained faces.
