Ambers || Jacaerys Velaryon

20. Jacaerys

Lords and knights gather around the Painted Table, their faces grim as they place markers across the carved map. Towers and dragon heads scatter the landscape, symbolizing lands and houses now divided. The weight of what is coming is heavy, almost unbearably so. Daemon's voice cuts through the murmur of many. He doesn't ask for opinions; he gives orders, his tone as certain as a commander already leading men into battle.

Jacaerys stands just beyond the room's threshold, hidden in the shadows of an adjoining hallway. His hands clench and unclench at his sides as he watches, fighting the urge to burst in and tell them all off at once. His heart pounds, not just from the sight before him, but from the sound that echoes through the stone walls-- his mother's cries, her agonized screams growing worse with each passing minute.

Every time she bellows, no one inside the chamber so much as flinches. Daemon stands at the table, unreadable. The men around him seem equally unmoved, focusing solely on strategy, as if his mother's suffering is nothing more than background noise, no more significant than the crackle of the hearth.

Beside Jace, Miara is watchful, close enough that he can feel the slight shift of air with each breath she takes. As his sworn protector, she's required to remain with him, but at this moment, her presence is more than that. Without her, he isn't sure he can endure this-- the helplessness of standing idle while his mother's body turns against her. He's supposed to be a prince, to show regal bravery, but all he feels is the fear of a son listening to his mother being tormented.

"A raven flew in this morning," Lord Celtigar says to the men around him. "The Sea Snake's fever has broken, and he has left Evenfall."

Jace's attention snaps back to the Painted Table. A flicker of relief courses through him. Corlys is no longer in the Stepstones, and the risk of losing him to the Stranger's grasp has lessened. It's a small comfort, given all that has happened. He still hasn't processed the loss of Viserys yet, so thankfully, the threat of losing another grandsire seems a little more distant.

"Where is he sailing?" Daemon asks, his tone devoid of emotion. It seems callous for a man who was once the Sea Snake's son. 

"That much is unclear, my prince," Celtigar admits, uncertain. A knot of unease tightens in Jace's chest at that. Surely Corlys would sail for Dragonstone after hearing what has transpired. He might be ambitious, with a thirst for power that unnerves some, but he would never abandon them.

Daemon pushes the doubt aside, his focus shifting back to the map. "We'll send ravens to our nearest allies, lords Darklyn, Massey, and Bar Emmon."

And then, cutting through the castle comes another scream. His mother-- desperate and filled with pain.

"Daemon!" she sobs. It's a sound Jace has never heard from her before-- a sound that makes the hairs on his neck stand. He flinches, his body tightening as though her pain is his own.

It worsens when Daemon doesn't move. Jace knows why he stays. Laena's death haunts him, his second wife burnt along with a babe in her belly, but that doesn't excuse this. His mother needs him, yet Daemon remains rooted to his spot, as if her plea is beneath his notice.

"Do you want to speak to the maester, my prince?" Ser Lorent questions, his voice cautious. Even the white cloak feels the wrongness of Daemon's indifference.

Daemon's eyes flick toward him, a wordless warning that quiets Lorent instantly. With that, Daemon turns his attention back to the Painted Table.

"I'll fly to the riverlands myself and affirm Lord Tully's support," Daemon says steadily. He moves a marker across the map, planting it on the part of the wood split by dozens of divots, all resembling rivers, the gesture marking his decision.