Legacy of Fire and Sand

Chapter 18 : The Weight of Secrets

The morning sun filtered through the sheer curtains of Ashara's chambers, casting a warm glow that did little to dispel the chill of the night's events. Ashara sat on the edge of her bed, her fingers tracing the edges of the rumpled sheets where Cregan had left his mark. The echoes of their passionate encounter still lingered, but they were overshadowed by the looming dread of the letter hidden within her chest.

After their rendezvous, her thoughts spiraled back to the warning she had received—the threat against her life, the hint of betrayal. She could still feel Cregan's warmth against her skin, the heat of his body, yet the weight of paranoia pressed heavily on her chest.

"Ashara!" Nymeria's voice broke through her thoughts as the door swung open. The princess entered, her face a mask of urgency.

"Don't you knock?" Ashara snapped, her irritation flaring at the intrusion.

"Not now. We have more important matters," Nymeria replied, stepping closer. There was a tension in the air, something unspoken that hung between them.

"What is it?" Ashara sighed, crossing her arms defensively.

"Quentyn and I found something. You need to explain this," Nymeria said, pulling out the letter from the depths of her satchel, her eyes narrowing as she held it up.

Ashara's heart sank as she recognized the parchment. "You went through my things?" she accused, anger bubbling to the surface. "How dare you!"

"It's not just about your privacy, Ashara. This is serious! We need to know if you're in danger," Nymeria retorted, her own frustration rising.

"By invading my chambers? You think that's how you handle it?" Ashara shot back, her voice raised. "You don't trust me?"

"I trust you, but this letter—" Nymeria began, only to be interrupted by Quentyn, who had followed her into the room.

"We're trying to protect you, Ashara. You need to understand how dire this is," Quentyn added, his tone firm yet filled with concern.

"Protect me? By rummaging through my belongings? You both treat me like a child!" Ashara snapped, stepping closer to confront them.

"This isn't about you being a child. This is about your life!" Quentyn's voice was sharp, his eyes intense.

"Right, because you're such a man of honor," Ashara sneered, her temper flaring. "You think I don't know what you did with Nymeria? You took her maidenhood like a common whore!"

Nymeria gasped, her expression shifting from anger to hurt. "How dare you speak to me like that? I'm not a common whore!" she exclaimed, her voice rising.

"No, but you're not a princess either," Ashara shot back, her heart racing. "You're just a pawn in your father's game, just like Quentyn."

"Better to be a pawn than a piece of trash," Nymeria spat, her anger boiling over.

"Trash? Look who's talking! You're the one who bedded my clients to gain favor!" Ashara hissed, stepping closer to Nymeria, their faces inches apart.

Quentyn moved between them, trying to mediate. "Both of you, stop! This isn't helping anyone," he said, his frustration evident.

"No, it's time to face the truth," Ashara said, her voice low but fierce. "You both think you can come into my life, judge me, and then act as if you care. But you don't. You care about your own reputations, your own titles."

"Ashara, that's not fair," Quentyn protested.

"Not fair?" she laughed bitterly. "Not fair is being a Targaryen and still being treated like a whore. Not fair is watching you both dance around like perfect little nobles while I've had to fight tooth and nail for every scrap of respect."

Nymeria stepped forward, her expression fierce. "You think you're the only one who's struggled? You're not the only one with burdens to carry, Ashara! We all have our own demons."

"Then why don't you both stop pretending to be my saviors? I don't need your pity or your interference!" Ashara shouted, her emotions spilling over.

The room was thick with tension, silence hanging heavy in the air. Nymeria's gaze softened for a moment, but then it hardened again. "Maybe you should reconsider how you view us, Ashara. We're trying to help, but you're making it difficult."

"I don't need help from anyone who thinks they can come into my life and dictate how I should live," Ashara shot back, her voice shaking with anger.

Quentyn stepped closer, his tone serious. "You're being reckless. You can't ignore the dangers around you."

Ashara glared at him, a fire in her eyes. "And you can't pretend to be something you're not. You're just a weak man who never satisfied me and should have never stepped foot in my brothel."

The words hung between them, sharp and biting. Ashara could see the hurt in Quentyn's eyes, the betrayal.

"Get out," Ashara said suddenly, her voice cold. "Both of you. I won't have you in my chambers any longer."

Nymeria looked at Quentyn, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. But he held his ground, chin raised defiantly. "Fine," he said, his tone clipped. "But know this, Ashara. You're making a mistake."

"A mistake? You think I'll regret kicking you out?" Ashara shot back. "This is my space, and I'll protect it however I see fit."

With that, she pointed toward the door, her heart racing with the aftermath of their heated argument. The prince and princess exchanged glances, disappointment and anger flashing across their faces, before they turned and left, the door slamming shut behind them.

Ashara leaned against the wall, breathing heavily, the adrenaline coursing through her veins. She felt a mix of satisfaction and emptiness as the silence settled around her, the weight of the letter still pressing on her mind