green queen, black ace | daemon, rhaenyra and vaegon

xvi. the puppet queen's promise

TW: references to rape in the middle of the chapter, though not in any significant detail.

Dear Queen Ceryse,

I heard congratulations are in order for another beautiful daughter. I was rather dismayed to hear you did not name this child after me, given Princesses Alyssa and Viserra are already named for my sisters.

Perhaps there shall yet be a daughter to come named Saera.

Regardless, I have enjoyed our brief exchange of letters these months. I shall come to court with my eldest sons when the celebrations are organised.

How are the elder two? And their dragons?

Alas, I have no more dragon eggs to give you, only my hopes for a speedy recovery.

From,
Saera Targaryen, former (thank the Gods) Princess of the Seven Kingdoms.

•••••

Dear Princess Saera,

I thank you for your well wishes. Indeed, Rhaela is named for the Crown Princess and Lady Laena, though we far more often call her little Rhae.

I will look forward to your visit, and to meeting more of your family.

Xaelithox and Belaerys are growing swiftly, they are now the size of ravens. The final egg is yet to hatch, but I have placed it beside Rhaela so perhaps it shall soon.

How is little Lord Venero? I hope King's Landing was not so unpleasant that it has discouraged him from future visits.

Hoping you and yours stay well,
Queen Ceryse Hightower

~•~•~•~•~•~•~

WHEN KING VISERYS SUMMONED Ceryse to his chambers not ten days after the birth of little Rhae, the Hightower girl had been taken aback.

What the servant reported couldn't be right. After both of her childbirths, the Maester mandated six weeks of rest. Six blessed weeks, in which she did not have to enter his chambers, nor feel him enter her.

The feeling of that freedom being ripped away made her want to cry, but she refused to let the tears fall.

Perhaps it was only to speak with her, to have her read to him as she once did.

And so, grasping onto that hope, Ceryse pushed herself from her silken sheets and forced herself onto her feet.

And moaned in pain.

Oh Gods, it hurt.

The Maester had told her after the birth that she had a tear, down there. He had done some stitching, and claimed it would hold and she would recover swiftly over the next six weeks.

But she did not feel recovered, and walking was awfully uncomfortable.

"Can you ask Ser Harwin to come in?" Ceryse requested of the servant. "I require some assistance. Tell Ser Steffon to remain in his place, I only need one knight to accompany me."

Ceryse had an endless respect for the oldest knight of her guard - Ser Steffon - who treated her with great kindness. She did not wish such an accomplished man to see her so weak.

It would be even worse if Vaegon had been on guard today. The humiliation of having that almost otherworldly man escort her in this state might actually send her to an early grave.

But Ser Harwin was different. He was not yet so accomplished, nor someone that Ceryse wanted to prove herself capable to. He was kind and comfortable and she knew he would not judge her.