Chapter #14 - The Winged Shadow

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Present Day

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Present Day

Red Keep, King's Landing


Prince Jacaerys Velaryon sat slumped in the carriage as it rattled through the streets of King's Landing, carrying him, his brothers Lucerys and Joffrey, his cousins Baela and Rhaena, and his mother's trusted lady, Elinda Massey.

The journey from Dragonstone had been brief — a single day by ship across the narrow waters — yet it had left him weary and restless. A thousand times over he would have preferred to ride Vermax rather than endure the stifling confines of a vessel. But Tyraxes, Joffrey's young dragon, was still too small to bear a rider, and Rhaena as yet had no dragon of her own. So a ship it had to be.

"Elinda, you truly don't know why Mother sent for us so suddenly?" Luke asked at last. He tried to keep his tone steady, though his hand fidgeted against his knee. Joffrey, half-asleep in Elinda's lap but determined not to miss a word, blinked wide eyes at her like a child hungry for gossip.

"No, my Prince," Elinda replied, her calm eyes flitting from one anxious face to another. "I know only what the message said. That I was to prepare you all at once, that we must sail the moment Lady Baela arrived from Driftmark, and that on reaching the Red Keep, you were to go directly to your mother's chambers, no matter the hour."

The carriage jolted over a rut, and Jace pressed his lips together, staring at the shuttered window. His mother's urgency gnawed at him. What could warrant such haste? Had something grave occurred? Was this about the whispers, the sly looks, the poisonous talk of bastardy that had dogged him and his brothers all their lives?

He dared not voice it, but he knew Luke's thoughts mirrored his own. His brother's eyes, storm-dark in the dim light, gave him away.

Only Joffrey seemed untouched by such shadows, still too young to grasp the weight of rumors and court cruelties. To him, this was only another journey, another story waiting to be told.

The Red Keep loomed dark and silent when they arrived, the first pale threads of dawn not yet piercing the sky. Following their mother's command, the children and Lady Elinda made their way without delay to the princess's chambers.

At the door, Elinda rapped firmly, the echo carrying down the stone corridor. As though she had been waiting for that very sound, the door flew open, and there stood their mother. Rhaenyra's silver hair spilled loose down her shoulders, her plain tunic hastily donned, her eyes bright with both weariness and urgency.

The moment she saw them, she pulled the door wider, ushering them all inside — even Elinda, whose presence in so private a gathering surprised her charges.

Within, the chamber was lit only by the glow of a few candles. Prince Daemon sat in a high-backed chair near the hearth, one leg crossed over the other, his sharp eyes flicking to each new arrival in silence.

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