Bronze Beauty | Daemon Targaryen

Grieve and Regroup

Diana looked lost to the world as she cradled little Jaehaera close, the blood on her skin long since dried, crackling and pulling at her skin as she stared off into space. Only vaguely aware of the maid gently using a damp rag to clean her skin wherever possible around the sleeping babe cradled in the princess' arms.

Rhaenyra was still abed; the babe had been stillborn, rumoured to be deformed with scales and a tiny tail, a girl. Due to loss of blood, the queen had been put on bed rest, at least for the rest of the day, for both her health and her safety as Daemon and his Gold Cloaks swept the keep and city for traitors or any clue of where the escaped Greens had gone.

A ship bearing the Hightower banner had been reported as missing by the dock master early that morning, with no sign of Vaghar in the nearby mountains where she nested. The Dragon Pit had also reported an attack, leaving several dragon keepers dead and some assailants burnt to a crisp, freeing Sunfyre from the Pit. Dreamfyre and the infant twins' hatchlings had been left behind in the chaos, not that they'd be much use to the Greens anyway. Helaena would not be riding off to war, and the hatchlings would just be a burden to cart cross country.

"We need to take action." Rhaenys snarled, her hair a mess, her cheeks still showing signs of tears, her narrowed gaze focused on a defeated Aelyx seated on a settee, his face in his hands. Slowly, the man looked up, his face haunted as he stared back at the grieving mother with dark eyes.

"Rhaenyra made herself clear; we will take no action unless by her order." He declared, his voice cold.

Rhaenys was unmoved, her back straightening with obstinance, "Her Grace is still abed with child fever. You are her consort; it is up to you to act in her name!"

Aelyx's eyes narrowed as he came to stand, his massive form looming over Rhaenys as he declared, "The Queen has spoken; to go against her is to be named a traitor. I know you grieve for your son as we all do, so I will overlook your transgressions."

Rhaenys' face blanched at the reminder of her loss, "My son died defending his queen because he believed in her. I will not allow his sacrifice to be in vain. The Greens have spilt blood; we must answer in kind. You may be content to let things lie, but I-"

Aelyx's face became an alarming shade of red, the vein in his neck throbbing as he roared, "I lost my daughter! Mine and Rhaenyra's! You know nothing if you think I do not understand your pain, Rhaenys."

"Princess Alycia, Your Highnesses," Ser Harrold declared, voice sombre as Alycia came storming in, eyes flashing with burning hot fury; at her side, a silent Tyland stood vigil, ready to report his findings.

Aelyx gave Rhaenys one last scowl before his face turned back into one of general, cold and emotionless. With his back straight, he turned to stare down his sister and good brother.

"Speak." He demanded.

Alycia's eyes narrowed in the face of her brother's disrespectful tone, but for once, she held her tongue, allowing her husband to go first. Tyland looked exhausted, dark circles under his eyes as he reported in a clinical tone, "The treasury looks to be undisturbed, although looking through the books, it seems some of the money put aside by the dowager queen and the Hand for 'special projects' seems to unaccounted for. All in all, the losses seem to be at a minimum. Lord Beesbury and his assistants are still scouring the books for more inconsistencies."

Aelyx nodded once sharply before barking, "Lord Beesbury has been working tirelessly for hours; allow him some rest before he continues. We will need him at his best to maintain our treasury in the coming war."

"War, Your Grace?" Tyland asked, his tone apprehensive, even though Alycia smirked, looking hungry at the idea of retribution.

Aelyx frowned as he snapped, "The traitors have murdered my youngest sister in cold blood. They will answer for this crime with fire and blood."