THE SOUL'S EXCHANGE

Shadows Of Oldtown

Sir Gwayne Hightower moved through the Red Keep with brisk determination, his brow set in a tense line. He had received unsettling news from Oldtown, the kind of news that curled cold claws around his heart and demanded immediate action. Every step he took toward his sister’s chambers felt heavy with urgency, his mind racing as he recalled the details. He had only recently been brought into the secret fold—his past life, their shared histories, the web of connections carefully guarded by a trusted few. All these revelations were still new, though his wife, Emily Rose, had known all along, part of the queen's close inner circle.

It was disturbing enough to think of the dangers lurking in Oldtown, yet, to Gwayne, the prejudice and threats against the Targaryens came as little surprise. “Barbaric conquerors, ruining their ‘pure’ religion,” he muttered under his breath. Of course, the Citadel would see it that way. The hypocrisy! He almost laughed bitterly at the irony: the Targaryens, accused of being savage conquerors, when in fact they had been the ones to bring unity to Westeros. He wondered how Aegon the Conqueror had stomached such treacherous ignorance—if Aegon had even tolerated it, or if he, too, had been unaware of the layers of enmity simmering within Oldtown.

Finally, he reached the queen's chamber. He knocked firmly and waited, his heart pounding. "Sister, it is me," he called.

“Come in!” Her voice answered with a familiar lilt, though there was something in her tone—a hint of tension he hadn’t noticed before. When she opened the door, Gwayne could see she’d been working on her papers, likely related to the orphanages and relief efforts she had taken under her wing. Gods bless her, he thought, even if this soul wasn’t the same sister he remembered. Sitara, the spirit within Alicent, had an intelligence and resilience that reminded him every day just how fortunate they were to have her. She was wiser than Alicent had ever been; she understood politics and power with a quiet strength that inspired his respect. He had come to love her deeply, as his own sister.

“What is it, brother? You seem quite worried,” Alicent said, setting her papers aside and gesturing for him to sit. He moved forward and took a seat, reaching for her hand.

“Okay, now you’re making me concerned,” she pressed, worry deepening in her eyes. “What’s happened?”

“The matter is of great concern, sister,” he began, tightening his grip on her hand as he prepared to deliver the news. But before he could begin, a sharp knock echoed from the direction of the secret passageway into the queen's chamber. He paused, surprised. Not many even knew of the hidden entrance, let alone used it.

“Enter!,” Alicent whispered under her breath, standing swiftly to unbolt the latch. Bowen had only recently been made aware of this entry, as it seemed more and more secrets were beginning to coil around them all. Alicent slid back the latch, and the door creaked open, revealing Ella, one of her closest confidantes.

Ella froze in place, her gaze flickering nervously to Gwayne. But Alicent stepped forward, placing a reassuring hand on Ella’s shoulder. “It’s alright,” she said, her voice calm but firm. “Speak freely in front of my brother. He knows.”

Ella stood poised, her expression both calm and resolute as she delivered the message to her queen. “My queen, there is concerning news from Oldtown.”

Alicent let out a deep sigh, as if a long-held suspicion had finally been confirmed. “So, my doubt was correct.”

Ella nodded solemnly. “Yes, my queen, it was.”

Alicent glanced at her brother, who had been quietly listening. “Oh, Ella, could you wait for a few moments? My brother has something to say. We will talk later.”

Ella inclined her head respectfully, smiling with an elegance that always impressed Alicent. She took a step back, giving them space but remaining nearby, poised and graceful.