The Passion of a Thousand Suns | Aemond Targaryen

Forty six: the battle above god's eye

KING'S LANDING

The soft thud of a guard collapsing to the stone floor echoed through the dungeon. Hira's heart raced as she heard the unmistakable sounds of steel clashing, followed by a muffled grunt.

It wasn't long before the heavy iron door to her cell creaked open, revealing Jacaerys standing in the dim light, panting from the exertion. Behind him, Baela was already wiping her blade clean on the cloth of a fallen guard's tunic.

"Hira," Jace whispered urgently, his eyes sharp with focus. "Come on, we have to move quickly."

Hira slowly stood, her body stiff from the long hours of sitting. She looked from Jace to Baela and back again, confused. "Why?" she asked. "Why would you risk yourself like this? Why help me escape?"

Jace held her gaze, his expression softening for a moment. "Because it's the right thing to do," he said simply. "My mother was wrong to imprison you, and you certainly don't belong in the dungeons. For what you and your people done for my family—protecting my brothers—you deserve to be free."

Hira stared at him, struck by the sincerity in his voice. She had not expected this from Jace, not now, with all the bitterness of Luke's death hanging over them. She could see Baela casting quick glances at Jace, her face a mix of concern and quiet admiration as he explained the plan.

With she didn't reply, Jace continued, "We'll guide you through the dungeon. You know the passageways like the back of your hand. A man loyal to me is stationed outside the city's gates. There is a horse prepared for you. Go to the Kingswood and call for Zhurong."

They hurried down the dark, winding corridors, Jace leading them with Baela close behind, her sharp eyes scanning every shadow for signs of danger. But Hira noticed the looks Baela kept stealing toward Jace, something unsaid hanging between them.

As they turned a corner, the flickering torchlight casting long shadows against the stone walls, Baela finally spoke, her voice steady but filled with tension. "Nettles sent word," she said, glancing at Hira, then quickly at Jace. "Our father will meet the kinslayer at the God's Eye... for one final battle."

The words slammed into Hira's chest like a blow, her breath catching in her throat. This was it. What Helaena warned. Aemond's face flashed in her mind. Daemon's rage would be met by Aemond's unyielding need for vengeance. They would destroy each other.

"They mean to kill each other," Baela said, her voice tinged with both desperation. "You can stop it, Hira. You must. I can't lose our father. Not after everything, not like this."

"Baela," Jace hissed, his anger boiling over as he turned on his betrothed. He glanced to Hira, catching a spark in her eyes. His fists clenched at his sides, his grief for Luke still raw, unhealed. "You want to save Aemond? After all he's done? After he killed Luke? No. Aemond deserves to die for what he's done. I won't allow him a chance at life while my brother rots six feet."

Hira stopped in her tracks, meeting Jace's fiery gaze with her own, steady and unflinching. "I can't bring Luke back," she said, her voice quieter, laced with eternal regret. "I tried to save him at Storm's End, Jace. You know that. What Aemond did was unforgivable, but it is also irreversible."

Her words were met with silence, the tension between them thick enough to cut. Jace's face twisted in pain, but she carried on, her voice resolute. "When I save Aemond, he will be exiled. When this is over, he will denounce his claim to the throne and live out the rest of his days in Leng, far from you and yours. And when you are King, when you have the power to, you might call for his blood."

Jace's gaze didn't waver, but the fire in eyes flickered, unsure.

"But know this," Hira's voice lowered with a hint of steel. "In Leng, he will be under my protection, as the Consort-Husband of the God-Empress. For as long as I live, no one will harm him. Not even you. His life is mine to guard—now and until the end."