THE SOUL'S EXCHANGE

A game of charades

As Queen Alicent, or rather, Sitara, opened her eyes the next morning, a strange feeling washed over her. The remnants of an unusual dream lingered in her mind, vivid and strange. In the dream, she had gone to Caraxes, Daemon Targaryen's fierce dragon, and wrapped her arms around the beast, crying into his warm scales. It wasn't unusual for her to make such out-of-the-ordinary friends-she had always had a knack for finding comfort in the strangest places. But what truly startled her was not her interaction with the dragon, but the distinct sensation that someone had carried her back to her chambers.

It wasn't just anyone. It had been Daemon Targaryen himself.

The mere thought of it made her laugh softly, despite her confusion. She sat up, the dark waves of her hair falling behind her like a cascading waterfall, catching the gentle morning light as it filtered through the ornate windows of her chambers. The sun painted her surroundings in a warm glow, but her laughter was cut short as something else caught her attention.

The smell.

She paused, inhaling deeply. It was unmistakable-the scent of dragon lingered on her skin. How could that be? If it had only been a dream, how could she possibly smell of Caraxes? And then her gaze shifted to either side of her bed, where her twin sons, Aegon and Sirion, lay peacefully asleep, a thick quilt draped over them just as she had seen in her dream. Exactly like in her dream.

Her heart skipped a beat. The realization hit her hard, her hand flying up to cover her mouth as she gasped quietly. "Oh my gods," she thought, wide-eyed. Daemon saw me break down last night. Panic crept in. Shit, shit, shit. That could raise far too many questions, questions she wasn't prepared to answer. Worse still, Daemon might have overheard her talking to Caraxes. Oh, bloody hell, she groaned inwardly, sinking back into her pillows for a moment.

But her chaotic train of thought was soon interrupted by two things happening at once. First, the sound of Aegon waking up with a hungry cry, which stirred Sirion beside him, who opened his eyes and shot his twin a half-irritated look. The second was the soft knock of her maid, Gwen, entering the room cautiously. Gwen, wide-eyed, informed her that King Viserys Targaryen had summoned her to his presence.

Without hesitation, Alicent responded, "I will feed the princes and come after I've bathed. Ask the king to wait."

The maid froze at her command, her mouth parting in disbelief. No one, not even the queen herself, normally dared to tell the king to wait. But Alicent's gaze was steely, unyielding. "I am his wife and his queen, and he will learn to wait," she said firmly, dismissing the maid with a flick of her hand.

The maid bowed quickly and left, stunned by her queen's decisiveness.

Once alone again, Alicent turned her full attention to her children, her heart softening as she scooped up Aegon into her arms, his small fingers reaching for her as he cried out. Sirion, though less vocal, stretched out beside them, his little hands curling into fists as he blinked sleepily at the sight of his mother. Alicent smiled, the weight of the morning's confusion briefly lifting. Whatever last night had meant, this moment with her sons was precious. She settled down to feed them both, a serene calm overtaking her as their cries softened into contentment.

For now, the questions of dragons, Daemon, and dreams could wait.

As she, peacefully fed her children, she remained blissfully unaware of the chaos erupting elsewhere in the Red Keep. The arrival of Lady Hermione Royce, the sister of the Lady of Runestone and heiress to the Vale and Runestone herself, had caused quite a stir. Hermione, a young woman of 19, had come to the palace with her beloved godson, Teddy-just a year and a half old-whose mother, Hermione's dear friend, had tragically died in a scuffle.