𝑳𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑻𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏 - 𝑰𝒗𝒂𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑩𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔

43

On the morrow, Prince Jacaerys arrived atop Vermax. He made his way directly to his mother's bedchambers, eyes red-rimmed and watery—news of his little brother's death in Winterfell had reached him while he was in council with Cregan Stark.

"Your Grace," Jace began, voice trembling slightly as Rhaenyra met his gaze.
"Lady Jeyne Arryn has pledged her support in exchange for a dragon to guard the Vale. And Lord Cregan Stark has promised two thousand men..."
His voice cracked, unable to finish. Rhaenyra rose and embraced him tightly.

⸻

The Targaryen and Velaryon families stood solemn on the cliff where little Visenya's funeral pyre burned.

Rhaena Targaryen, Daemon's second-born daughter and betrothed to Lucerys Velaryon, stepped forward, eyes glistening with tears. Daenaera, standing beside her, reached out and gently squeezed her hand, silently offering comfort.

Jace approached the fire, tossing into the flames the towel that had once wrapped baby Luke. Young Joffrey hurled Luke's wooden horse, and Rhaenyra threw his favorite childhood blanket.

⸻

The next morning, a handmaiden knocked gently at Daenaera's door.

"My princess?" came the soft voice from beyond.

"Come in," Daenaera answered, and Selene entered, stepping toward the window to draw back the curtains.

"Good morrow, Princess. How do you feel?" she asked.

"Good morrow, Selene. I'm well, thank you. Help me dress?" Daenaera murmured, allowing the handmaiden to assist with her silken robes and long silver hair.

"There's something I must show you," Selene said, pausing as she braided a thin strand of Daenaera's platinum hair.

"What is it? Something wrong?" Daenaera asked, her brow knitting with concern.

Selene shook her head and produced a letter, handing it to the princess.

Daenaera's eyes scanned the words:

Dae, I have missed you! I know you do not wish to visit Kattegat, but I had to write, even if only through this letter. I know you do not want to think of Ivar, but he has learned the child was not his and has ordered her burned alive. I do not wish to force you, nor to call you here, but please—hear him out if he comes.

"I will write to him later. Thank you." Daenaera said quietly as Selene finished the braid.

⸻

The throne room buzzed with unease as a raven arrived bearing accusations against Rhaenyra: she was charged with killing an innocent child in his sleep.

"It remains unclear how the Keep was breached. The boy's head was severed, and thousands witnessed the procession," the maester reported. Daenaera's gaze flickered toward her cousin, puzzled. Why would someone who had lost a child kill another's?

"And they accuse me?" Rhaenyra muttered in disbelief.

"It appears so." The maester nodded gravely. "Messages claiming this have spread across the realm."

"We must send word denying these vile lies," Rhaenyra commanded, her voice steely.

"I will draft the missives at once, but I fear they may fall on deaf ears."

"We must also double our guard here and on Driftmark," Rhaenyra said, rising.
"There will be swift retribution... one way or another."
"Have it seen to, Your Grace," the maester bowed.

"Let me and Daenaera fly out on dragons," Jace offered, a small smile crossing his face.
"Rhaenys is needed in the Gullet, and we can watch for movements from King's Landing."

"No." Rhaenyra cut him off. "Dae is with child, and you lack experience in war."

Lord Bartimos spoke up, voice grave.
"The damage to our cause is immeasurable, at a time when we need loyalty most."

Daenaera scoffed, defending her cousin fiercely.
"But it's a lie."

"Having lost my son, that I would order such a thing against Helena... an innocent." Rhaenyra murmured.

"Not so innocent if she agreed to marry that cunt," Daenaera muttered under her breath, earning a slight smirk from Jace.

"The death of Prince Lucerys was both a shock and an insult," Ser Alfred said. Rhaenys looked toward Daemon, who sat before her. Daenaera noticed the subtle tension in their exchange—did Daemon truly sanction such a murder? It was almost too much to believe.

"A mother so aggrieved might seek retribution in haste," Ser Alfred suggested.

"Are you implying, Ser Alfred," Rhaenyra said, standing suddenly, "that my grief drove me to order the decapitation of a child?"

"I only meant it could be a rash act," Ser Alfred hedged.

"Mind yourself," Rhaenys warned sharply.

Daenaera's eyes widened in surprise—she hadn't expected Rhaenys to take such a stand.

Rhaenyra sat again, glancing toward her husband. Noticing the look on Daemon's face, she commanded the court to disperse.

⸻

Later, Daemon emerged from the Dragonpit, mounted on Caraxes.

In her chambers, Daenaera sat with a letter half-written to Hvitserk, uncertain what to say. Her belly had grown noticeably, and soon she had to choose a dragon egg for her child.

Young Prince Joffrey volunteered eagerly, selecting a grey egg for the babe.

"Thank you, Joff," Daenaera said as the boy handed her the egg.

"Will he let me play with him, Dae?" the boy asked, eyes hopeful.

"Of course, sweet boy. Now come, you should be practicing Valyrian, no?" Daenaera teased, arching a playful brow.

"Yn nyke sȳz. Sȳrkta than Jace!"
But I am good. Better than Jace! Joffrey boasted, making Daenaera smile.

"Ao issi indeed. Gaomagon daor ivestragī Jace gīmigon nyke ivestretan ao bona."
You are indeed. Do not let Jace know I told you that.

The two laughed softly as they walked back toward the castle.