Ruin Me

Chapter Forty One

Daenyra felt infinitely better when she woke the next day. And she had known exactly who was responsible for her movement into her bed, the removal of her shoes and the covering of her body with a blanket.

Said son, now was walking with his mother, her arm wrapped around his as he escorted her from her breakfast table in her chambers to the Dragonpit. At least until they stopped as they caught sight of Jacerys walking into the War Room because he had spotted Hugh Hammer as he attempted to get Ulf to get up from where he lounged. He sat in the chair at the head of the Painted Table, a place that was reserved for the Queen or the Princess of this castle, and his feet were resting atop the stone table. As much as Daenyra wanted to storm in there and cut his head from his shoulders, she wanted to see how Jace reacted after their conversation yesterday.

"What are you doing here?" Jace demanded as he reached the table. "Remove your feet from the table."

"I'd rather not."

"Ulf," Hugh reprimanded but it made no difference.

"It's not up to you, Ulf," Jace countered as the man smirked at him. Vaelon's grip tightened on his mother so she didn't go charging in there and murder the people that would help them win this war.

"Who's it up to then, boy?"

"He's the Prince, Ulf," Hugh informed him. "Prince Jacaerys Velaryon."

Ulf was on his feet instantly as he moved away from the chair and the table, tucking a small dagger back into its sheath at his waist. "Prince Jacaerys Velaryon. Right here. Who would've thought it?" he chuckled.

"He lives here," Ulf said, stating the obvious.

Jace set his jaw as he began to talk commanding steps towards Ulf. "I'll have an apology from you."

He kept his composure still as Ulf bounded towards him and hugged him. "Ah! The young prince!" the commoner exclaimed. "Look at that hair." Jace caught his arm from where it was reaching to touch his hair, and he threw it down. "It's as dark as they say! Let them tell us we don't have Targaryen blood, eh?"

"Unlike you, commoner, my mother is the Queen –" Jace began, trying to remain calm in the face of such blatant disrespect.

"Dragonriders both, you and I. Cut from the same cloth," Ulf remarked.

"It is a sacred inheritance of which you know nothing," Jace snapped. The man may have been taller than him, but it did not make his steps any less intimidating as he neared the oafish man. "You claim to be a rider when you have done so for five minutes. I have done so for my entire life. I can speak fluent, the language of the dragons, of my forebears that you seek now to claim for yourself. You know nothing of what it truly means to be a Targaryen."

Ulf finally made a smart decision to be quiet as Hugh stepped forward. "Please, my prince, forgive him," he said, knowing his place. "He's not much used to the manners of court."

"Or any manners at all I'd say," Jace added as he regarded Ulf. "Do you know what has happened, this last hour? Hmm?" His head turned between the two of them who had no words to say still. "The so-called Prince Regent, has burned the town of Sharp Point down to its stones. Thousands of its folk, dead or lost. It's harbour, in ashes. Were you prepared to face such an enemy, or will you stay here and make yourself easy? If you hinder our efforts through sloth or unreadiness," Jace began lowly as he got in Ulf's face before his voice began to rise. "I will see you hanged, and your body fed to the dogs in the streets!"

"I meant no disrespect, my prince," Ulf amended with a hasty brow.

"See to it that he does not make the same mistake again," Jace huffed at Hugh as he began to walk from the room.