Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
My head is pounding when Diana shakes me away before opening the curtains. I press a pillow over my face and curl up on my side, trying to ignore her and go back to dreamless slumber.
"Get up, my lady." She says, pulling back my blankets. "Breakfast awaits."
I make a strangled noise and wave her away.
"Up." she commands, shaking me again.
"No." I moan, burrowing deep in what's left of the blankets. "I'm not hungry."
"I'll bring you moon tea when you get down there." Diana is relentless, mostly because she doesn't want to get into trouble with Alicent. If I don't show up, Alicent will deem it my fault and Diana's.
I half-stumble out of bed. Standing, I scratch my hip and glare. She gives me her most charming smile, and I find my annoyance with her fading, despite myself. She helps me dress quickly, I let my hair stay down instead of telling Diana to do the braids I usually want her to do, and catch a glimpse in my full-length mirror before sulking all the way down to the dining hall. Once I sit, a servant is immediately bringing me a cup of tea that no one notices is moon tea, thank god. Because I know if Alicent saw, she'd have my head for it. Aemond I really think could care less.
Besides the tea, the only other thing I have for breakfast is bacon and as soon as I'm done I'm going back upstairs. I'm sure Alicent is rolling her eyes but she's the one who demands me down here. In my room, I find my practice outfit spread out on my bed, scented with verbena and lavender. It's a slightly padded tunic stitched with metallic thread. I knock the tunic to the floor and climb under the covers, pulling them up over my head so that I am slightly smothering myself. I fall asleep like that.
In the late afternoon, when I awake again, the garment is wrinkled, and I have no one to blame but myself. On my way to the kitchens after Diana has put my hair in warrior braids, I pass Aemond in the hall. He is dressed all in black, his mouth pulled into a grim line.
"Hold on a moment." he says.
I do.
He frowns. "I wish you would not dirty yourself. After all, princesses aren't meant for swordplay."
I bite my lip, saying nothing. After all, he didn't ask me a question. We stand there, watching each other. His eyes narrow. There are so many unsaid things between us- so many reasons we can only be something like husband and wife, but never fully embody our roles. "You will come to understand that moon tea will not always be your saving grace," he says finally. "And you will have to understand that we will need to produce heirs at some point. Enjoy your practice."
I make a deep bow and head for the door, my trip to the kitchens abandoned. All I want to do is get away from inside this cell, from the reminder that there is no place for me at the Red Keep, no place for me in Westeros.
You will come to understand that moon tea will not always be your saving grace
!!!~~~~!!!
The rest of the days go by in a blur. I go toe-to-toe with Ser Criston Cole, fighting for the honor of impressing myself. After a few rounds, Ser Criston Cole calls it game. I keep trying to catch Aemond's eye, but he won't allow it. I want to know if he's angry with me at keeping up with the sword fighting. A habit that has once been learned can not be so easily broken.
