TO LOVE A KING || Maegor II Targaryen [SLOW UPDATES]

095▪️ STOLEN GAZES, STOLEN CROWNS

Charlotte forced herself not to look at Lady Fell or Lady Caswell, instead turning her gaze across the chamber. There, King Maegor was talking with his small council, Naomi stood radiant beside Orys Baratheon, laughing as they gushed over their little son, Brandon.

The boy's brown curls bounced as he clutched his father's finger, Naomi's joy unmistakable.

Charlotte's jaw tightened. To everyone else it was a picture of happiness, her sisters, glowing in marriage, with beloved children at their sides. But to Charlotte, it was a cruel mirror of everything she lacked. Their laughter cut deeper than court's spite.

Her fists clenched harder, knuckles white. She seethed silently, her gaze fixed on Naomi's family as though sheer hatred could shatter the scene before her. Her nails bit into her palms.

She hated her younger sisters, their happiness, their children, their smugness. They had everything, while she remained the bitter shadow-wife.

Meanwhile, King Maegor stood stiffly at the high table, while talking with his lords, his broad hands resting on the gilded arms of his chair, though his gaze wandered beyond the courtiers bowing and smiling for favor. He had long ago learned that words at court were sharper than any blade, and today the whispers cut louder than steel.

From his place, he caught sight of Lady Fell and Lady Caswell leaning too close, their lips moving like vipers in grass. Though he could not hear every word, their glances betrayed their prey. His eyes followed their line of sight until they rested on Charlotte.

He studied her. The proud tilt of her chin was belied by the way her hands trembled slightly at her sides, fists clenched so tightly the knuckles paled. She had heard them. Maegor did not need to strain his ears to know what venom had been loosed; the look on Charlotte's face was enough.

And yet, Charlotte's eyes did not linger on her whispering tormentors. No, her fury turned elsewhere. Across the hall, Naomi and Orys bent together over their son, laughter spilling from them with the unguarded joy of family untouched by courtly malice.

The sight only stoked Charlotte's fire. Maegor saw the way she stared, her lips pressed thin, her jaw tight as stone.

The lords and ladies carried on, the great hall awash with wine and chatter, but Maegor sat apart in thought. He understood the cruelty of whispers; he understood the weight of being measured and found lacking. He, too, had been spoken of as though he were a shadow to greater names.

The King spoke to his gathered lords, but his eyes betrayed him. Now and then, they drifted toward Charlotte. She had grown lovelier in the years since their quarrel, and guilt still gnawed at him for how he had treated her.

He watched Charlotte now, and a grim thought came to him. "She will break herself on envy if she does not steel herself against it. The court has no mercy for the weak, or the barren."