The Mouth of the Dragon, The Eyes of the Lamb

Chapter 15

The light from the tent flap opening distracted Lucela momentarily. She had just found her bag with various supplies that she used when Aemond came walking through and looking around. She rolled her eyes as hard as she could before opening her bag and digging around.

"Princess, honestly, I'm fine," Greyson breathed out from his seat in front of Lucela. Lucela silently arched a dark brow at him before she finally found her soap and washed the blood and dirt off her hands quickly with his assistance.

"Armor off." Ser Greyson looked toward the entrance nervously. Only Aemond had walked inside. The rest of the family would be heard quietly conversing from where they were standing outside. With a sigh, Greyson slowly took his chest place off, groaning and moaning everytime he had to move.

In between his grunts and groans, Aemond could catch some of what Rhaenyra was saying, probably to his mother. Apparently little Lucela decided to study under the maesters at Dragonstone for the ten years that they were gone. Interesting. Aemond turned his attention from the dirt in front of him back to Lucela and Ser Greyson.

Lucela was wiping blood away from Greyson's ribcage as gently as she could. His wounds came into view, and Lucela tried not to audibly sigh in relief.

"Well, his tusks didn't puncture you. It looks like they only gave you a nasty cut."

Greyson remained silent as he gripped his shirt in his fists. It was obvious to anyone that was looking that he was in pain, but he already drank the milk of the poppy Lucela had in her bag. She moved on to his forehead wound and cleaned it off quickly before smiling softly.

"Am I permanently damaged, my Princess?" Lucela let out a soft laugh, and Greyson smiled. Aemond, on the other hand, stiffened with a scowl. What was taking Cole so long with the maester?

"Only in the ways you were before," Lucela replied with a grin before grabbing a needle and standing. "I need to sew the wound on your ribs closed."

"I figured you might."

"Uncle, are you going to continue to just stand there like a creep, or are you actually going to assist? Maybe even talk?"

Aemond's scowl deepened as he looked at Lucela. She stared at him for a moment before shrugging and walking over to a candle on a neighboring table. Aemond took a step forward. She was going to burn herself. Lucela simply watched the needle in the flames and wasn't watching the fact that her fingertips were also in it. Thankfully, Aemond couldn't see that.

"I'm simply making sure that another mistake like you or your brothers doesn't happen."

If looks could kill, Aemond would have turned to ash on the spot. He felt his lips twitch in a smirk as Lucela glared at him before turning her attention back to her guard. Honestly, what was taking Criston and the maester so long? With a grunt, Aemond turned and left the tent.

"Do you think he knows?" Greyson asked before groaning and clenching his teeth as Lucela pierced his skin with the needle. She didn't stop sewing his skin to glare at him.

"No one but us knows, Greyson. Drop it." She was a bastard of her mother's personal guard. She couldn't have bastards of her own.

"Because of that foolish motto of yours," Greyson said with a grin. Lucela scowled and flicked his cheek with her fingers, but said nothing. Her foolish motto had protected them so far.

Aegon looked at Aemond with an amused look as he came storming out of the tent. Aemond didn't pay any attention to his family around him and started walking toward the maester's tent on the other end of the camp. Honestly, this was a bit ridiculous. Aemond felt like he reached the tent in record time and entered quickly. The maester and Criston both stared at the entrance of the tent when Aemond came bursting through, and Criston had the sense to look slightly guilty.