The Brightest Sun

Chapter 54

Maia's giggles reached her, the little girl using her hands to muffle the sound lest her great-uncle take notice. Much as the portraits adored her, Owen was like to take umbrage with any disturbances to his lesson.

"Maia," Elia said, lips quirked in amusement. "Come along, sweetling. We mustn't bother them. Do you want your uncle to ask you to join them?"

Maia shook her head rapidly, eyes wide as she scrambled away from the door where Aegon sat forlornly as Owen Potter explained the intricacies of magical oaths.

"Why is Egg in trouble, Mama?" Maia asked.

Because he very nearly killed himself, she didn't say. Instead, Elia held a hand out, feeling Maia grab hold, little fingers curling around hers.

"Does Uncle Owen mean trouble?" she asked in amusement, smiling slightly at the guards as two of her brother's men fell into step behind them. Despite residing in Martell-held lands, Doran was not taking any chances, magic or not. Sunspear was far more open to little birds and wandering hands than the Water Gardens.

Maia nodded solemnly, green eyes affecting seriousness. "Grandpa says Uncle Owen puts naughty boys and girls to sleep."

Elia laughed, a full, honest one as Maia's face morphed into a pleased expression. James Potter was the terror of his ancestors – in youth and his time as a portrait – and enjoyed telling tall tales to his grandchildren. That Maia very clearly favoured the man of all her relations gave him what her grandmother considered to be an arrogant swagger to mimic his years at Hogwarts.

James had merely preened as he considered himself the favourite amongst the multitude of Potters and Peverells.

"Your grandfather is always right, is he?"

Maia nodded enthusiastically before grinning in delight as they neared the small hall off Doran's solar. Viserys' pale hair was visible through the open door, and Elia tapped her daughter lightly on the nose, bending as much as her stomach would allow, staring intently at her. Maia's smile slowly slipped off her face at the sight of the serious expression on Elia's face.

"What have I told you?" she asked lowly.

"No shifting," Maia grumbled, a slightly peeved look on her face. "Not until Papa and Rhae and Teddy come back."

Elia stared at her, gauging Maia's sincerity before she nodded in satisfaction. "Once they return you can morph to your hearts content," she told her. Bloodstone had awoken her magic but Elia remained listless in Sunspear, unable to do much and unwilling to chance a glamour that would fail. One ripple of magic a fortnight past had been enough to convince her of the need to ensure her daughter practiced her control.

"When is Papa coming back?" Maia asked.

"Not long, I should think," Elia replied, smoothing her daughter's hair before she straightened, making their way into the room.

She saw the intent stare on Maia's form as her little girl bounded over to her uncle, beaming as Doran allowed her to clamber into his lap. Caleotte's gaze drifted to Elia as she slid into her seat before returning to Doran, and Elia forced herself to not react as his eyes lingered slightly on Maia.

Not every maester is another Pycelle, she reminded herself.

Caleotte had served her brother loyally for a number of years, but a part of her remained in King's Landing, where loyalty was a commodity to be sold and the maesters owed their loyalty to their order and any number of people who found themselves in possession of dangerous secrets.

Perhaps pregnancy was making her more paranoid – or the Blacks she knew had rubbed off on her – but Elia couldn't shake her discomfort. Even when Caleotte's awe at the magic of her family had pushed him into seeking the portraits while they resided in Sunspear, her skin crawled at the thought of the maester's assistance despite his kind demeanour throughout her pregnancy, the glances at Maia for the past fortnight only heightening her paranoia.