𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓣𝓱𝓲𝓻𝓭 𝓢𝓸𝓷

Chapter 39

Rhaenyra awoke to the soft light of dawn spilling into the room, casting a warm glow on the stone walls. She blinked a few times, adjusting to the morning light, and as her vision cleared, she noticed Aegon standing at the foot of the bed, quietly getting dressed.

His movements were careful, almost practiced, as he fastened the buckles on his leather tunic. She watched him for a moment, taking in the sight of him before she spoke.

"Where are you going?" she asked, her voice still thick with sleep, yet tinged with a hint of concern.

Aegon turned to face her, a small, reassuring smile playing on his lips. "I leave for my tour today," he replied, his voice steady. "You and Varla need to return to the Red Keep."

Rhaenyra frowned slightly, the warmth of the bed suddenly feeling cold without him. She pushed herself up, the covers slipping off her shoulders, revealing the soft linen shift she wore. "Are you sure you want to go?" she asked, her eyes searching his. "I'd much rather have you here, in bed with me, than off with another woman."

Aegon's smile softened, and he crossed the room to her, sitting down on the edge of the bed beside her. He reached out, gently cupping her cheek with his hand. His thumb brushed lightly against her skin as he looked at her with a mixture of affection and regret. "Never," he murmured, leaning in to kiss her.

The kiss was tender, a promise wrapped in warmth, but it was over too soon. Rhaenyra closed her eyes, savoring the lingering taste of him on her lips before opening them again. There was a part of her that wanted to plead with him to stay, to abandon this tour and remain by her side, but she knew better. Duty was a weight they both carried, and she wouldn't add to his burden.

With a soft sigh, she pulled away from him and wrapped the cover around herself as she stood. The cool morning air nipped at her skin as she crossed the room to where her clothes were laid out.

She quickly slipped into her dress, the fabric whispering against her skin as she pulled it over her head. Aegon watched her, his gaze thoughtful, as if he was committing every detail to memory.

"I'll see you at breakfast," he said, his tone gentle yet firm. It was a statement, not a question—a reminder that despite the fleeting moments they shared, there was still a day ahead filled with obligations.

Rhaenyra nodded, her fingers lingering on the ties of her dress as she finished fastening it. She turned to him, offering a small, bittersweet smile. "I'll be there," she promised, her voice quieter now, tinged with a sadness she couldn't quite shake.

Aegon stood, closing the distance between them in a few strides. He pulled her into a brief but tight embrace, his arms wrapping around her as if he could shield her from the uncertainties of the world outside. "Take care of Varla," he whispered into her hair, his breath warm against her scalp.

Rhaenyra rested her head against his chest, her arms slipping around his waist. "I will," she whispered back, knowing how much his daughter meant to him.

After a few moments, he gently pulled away, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear before heading to the door. Rhaenyra watched him go, her heart heavy yet resigned. She knew this was necessary, that his tour would forge alliances and strengthen their house, but it didn't make it any easier to watch him leave.

She stood there for a moment longer after the door closed behind him, her mind filled with thoughts of what the day would bring. Finally, with a sigh, she turned and made her way back to her own chambers, where Varla would be waiting.

There was much to do before their departure, and though her heart ached, she knew she had to be strong—for Aegon, for Varla, and for herself.