THE BASTARD QUEEN (Jacaerys Velaryon)

𝕴𝖓𝖋𝖎𝖓𝖎𝖙𝖞

You were unsurprised to find the hallways completely empty in this portion of the Keep. It had been emptied purposefully, allegedly for your benefit. The room you'd been residing in was not your room, not usually. It was only a room you were placed in for your protection, no one would know which room you were in. On top of that, no one was to come down here, no one but Lillith and your guards at least. Now, that seemed to backfire, as one of your guards, was the fucking problem. Now, you were dripping blood through an abandoned hallway.

You dropped blood spatter on the ground with every step as you walked, your bare feet slapping against the marble. You tried helplessly not to think of Lillith's terrified face as the sword plunged through her, or your guard, dying utterly alone in the hallway. They had died for you, and you would not let them die in vain. You couldn't.

You gripped the blue cloth around your stomach, praying to the Old Gods and the Mother, desperately asking for forgiveness, not to punish your sins through your baby. You did not want redemption for the man's death, or for Arryk's life that you were determined to take, you only wanted understanding. Understanding that you were doing what must be done. In truth, you couldn't care much of redemption or forgiveness, not when all your thoughts laid with Lillith and your knight. They were never anything but kind, and you hoped that in the end they did not blame you for their deaths. That was the only thing you prayed to the Gods for. Forgiveness for being the reason they died, not for the foul men that you'd kill, the traitors you killed and would kill. You did not need forgiveness for that, and you would not ask for it.

Quickly, your feet carrying you more than your mind, you found yourself in the rooms of the Queen's Guard. You'd been placed in White Sword tower on purpose. If something was to go wrong guards would be close by, yet it was practically empty, you wondered just how many of these men had been sent on a wild goose chase. You looked around the empty hall, trying to remember just which room was Arryk's. You'd been told once, in passing as you walked through the hall, but you hadn't committed it to memory, now you regretted it deeply.

It was then, as you were stained red and an utter wreck, that you ran into a young guard. You could recall when he'd been instated, like Cole he was from Dorne, had more experience fighting than most of the knights in the Keep. He was sweet from what you recalled, but young, too young to have seen what he had. He looked up at you, eyes wide, mouth ready to speak, but you jumped to cover his mouth with your hand. He did not gasp for air as you expected, but relaxed in your hold. You supposed he probably didn't know what to say to the bloody Princess anyway.

You leaned into him, lips close to his ear when you spoke, "Arryk's room?" He pointed, just a few doors down, to a door cracked slightly open, you nodded, "Now, sweet boy, go find the Queen, and tell her I've found the snakes," he nodded, bowing slightly as he ran, feet never making a sound as he left.

You walked carefully to Arryk's door, trying not to make a sound. You thanked the Gods that the door was cracked open. It would be easier to get the jump on him now, the door wouldn't have to creak open. Inside, he was changing his shirt, the one he threw to the ground was soaked in blood, poor Aren's who sat outside your door, dead. On his bed, sat a bag, seemingly one he meant to escape with. He assumed you were dead, you realized. He assumed that you were dead, and that he'd have more time before the bodies were discovered. If that was to be true, he'd have time to run away, like a coward. At least the attempted assassin had been willing to die for his cause. Like countless men before him, he'd underestimated you, and like those men it would be his downfall.

The door slid open further with no noise. He was still facing the wall, touching a drawing, you assumed it was one his brother had created. The brother he betrayed, and the brother he was leaving behind. The image seemed to be of them, when they were younger, smiles clear in their faces. Erryk was so kind, an artist and poet. He was soft for a knight. How the twins ended up so different, you would never understand.