𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓣𝓱𝓲𝓻𝓭 𝓢𝓸𝓷

Chapter 7

Aegon reached the door to Rhaenyra's chambers and paused, taking a deep breath. This was not a moment he had anticipated, nor one he felt prepared for. Inside, he knew, his niece was grappling with a grief that words could scarcely address. He looked at the guard who bowed to him before opening the door.

"Prince Aegon!"

Aegon walked in and looked around. Rhaenyra's room was shrouded in darkness, save for the flickering light of a few candles casting shadows against the walls. His eyes immediately fell on the bed, where Rhaenyra lay curled up, her body racked with silent sobs.

Beside her sat Alicent, her hand resting comfortingly on Rhaenyra's back. The queen looked up as Aegon entered, her expression a mixture of sorrow and concern.

"Prince Aegon," Alicent said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. There was a plea in her eyes, a silent understanding that he was here to offer some solace to the grieving princess.

He nodded to her. "Leave us, please," he said gently but firmly. "I need to speak with Rhaenyra alone."

Alicent hesitated for a moment, then stood and bowed her head in deference. She gave Rhaenyra's shoulder a final, reassuring squeeze before leaving the room, closing the door quietly behind her.

Aegon approached the bed slowly, each step measured, as if any sudden movement might shatter the fragile calm. He lowered himself onto the edge of the bed, reaching out to gently touch Rhaenyra's hand. Her sobs quieted slightly at the contact, and she turned her tear-streaked face toward him, her eyes red and swollen.

"I'm sorry, Rhaenyra," Aegon said, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm so sorry for the loss of your mother and brother."

Her lip trembled as she struggled to find her voice. "Was my father...was he happy in those last hours with my brother?" she asked, her voice breaking on the last word.

Aegon frowned, a deep furrow appearing between his brows. It was a question laden with the weight of unspoken fears and desperate hopes. He took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "Your father loved you and your brother more than anything in this world," he began slowly.

"In those final moments, I believe he found some comfort in being with your brother. But it was not happiness, Rhaenyra. It was... acceptance. He found a measure of peace, knowing he had done all he could."

Rhaenyra's face crumpled, fresh tears spilling from her eyes. Aegon's heart ached at the sight of her pain. Without thinking, he pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly against his chest. She clung to him, her sobs muffled against his tunic.

For a long while, they stayed like that, wrapped in a cocoon of shared grief and silent comfort. Aegon stroked her hair gently, murmuring soothing words, though he knew they could do little to ease the depth of her sorrow.

He felt her tears soak through his clothes, but he didn't move, didn't let go. This was a moment for holding on, for providing the steady presence she so desperately needed.

As the night wore on, Rhaenyra's sobs gradually subsided, her body growing limp with exhaustion. Aegon continued to hold her, his own eyes stinging with unshed tears. He had never been good with words, but in this moment, he hoped his actions spoke louder.

Eventually, he felt her breathing even out, her body settling into the deep, heavy rhythm of sleep. He carefully laid her back against the pillows, tucking the blankets around her with gentle hands. For a moment, he simply watched her, the flickering candlelight casting soft shadows on her tear-streaked face.

Aegon rose quietly from the bed, his heart heavy but resolute. He would be there for her, as long as she needed him. He would be the steady rock in her stormy sea of grief, a silent promise he made to himself as he left her room.