Hear me Roar - English version

CHAPTER 37 - I am here

               I feel my body being lifted. I hear frantic footsteps accompanying the jolts. Joffrey's face, looking more helpless than ever. Cersei's features, distorted by rage. Sansa's hand in mine. Then, nothing. Darkness. Shadows. If this is what death looks like, we are all fighting for a void.

"He must have had accomplices."

"The city gates are closed until further notice, Your Majesty. The Gold Cloaks are already searching Flea Bottom."

"I want their execution to be public."

"There is no telling if we will find anyone. He may have acted alone."

"The Red Keep is easy to infiltrate. That has already been proven several times in history."

"And the Targaryens never thought to reinforce security? Their lineage took too long to die out."

               Convinced I am in a dream, I do not open my eyes. Why would the Small Council meet in my bedroom? Though I am certain that is exactly what Joffrey would say.

"Mapping all the secret passages would take days."

"Our security is at stake. And yours as well."

               Dammit, how can I be dreaming and awake at the same time?

"Joffrey?"

               Across from me, at the other end of the room, five pairs of eyes turn my way. My belly is aching, and I have no doubt that it is now empty. I can no longer feel the baby. I would have preferred for all of this to be a dream.

"Diana!"

               My husband rushes toward me. He catches my hand and plants a kiss inside its palm. Never has Joffrey shown himself so affectionate with me in public—or in private, now that I think about it.

"What are... you doing here?"

"His Majesty insisted that the meeting be held in your apartments," Varys explains to me.

"Why?" I ask, turning my head toward Joffrey.

"So as not to have to leave you, my lady."

               The King says nothing. I imagine there is a great difference between a stolen kiss and confessing his love so openly.

♐︎

               Joffrey has not left my side for a second since I woke up. He has monitored my visitors, as well as the sedatives Pycelle administered to me. I won't even tell you how angry he was the first time I got up without his permission, and without that of the Maester, who had ordered me to remain bedridden a few days longer.

               The time to celebrate his name day has now come. I am well enough to participate in the festivities, even if I risk going to bed early. I will not wear black. Given that the baby did not have time to be born, the court is not in mourning. However, I am. How can I not weep for the death of my child?

               Settled beside my husband at the head table, my eyes are fixed on my wine cup. Joffrey is prouder than he has ever been. Today he celebrates his nineteenth year, and for the occasion, he has pulled out all the stops. Nothing was left to chance. I imagine his ego was bruised by the sumptuousness of Margaery and Tommen's wedding.

               My husband announces that he will receive his gifts in a few minutes. I reflect that in normal times; I would have wandered through the assembly to talk with Sansa or Varys. But now, they are the ones who come to me. I am protected as if I were made of porcelain. It's becoming almost humiliating.