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DESPITE PREVIOUS EVENTS, ALIA WAS BACK IN VISERYS' TENT. She suppressed and ignored her fear, refusing to neglect her duties whilst trying to forget all that happened the other day; Viserys was her king, and she would treat him as such. However Alia was mindful to only see to him when she knew he was resting, careful not to disturb him when he was awake.
It made looking after him considerably more difficult, but if she could avoid speaking to him, then to her it was worth it. She took time to monitor the temperature of his flesh, resting a cool flannel against his bare chest when his temperature rose, and covering him in furs when he began to shiver.
What made things increasingly difficult, however, was the presence of someone who had no business being in a King's tent. Doreah sat on the edge of Viserys' bed, gazing at him longingly, as though she had never seen something so wonderful. Although beautiful, Alia didn't think Viserys was as mesmerising as Doreah made out (but that was untrue. Viserys was beautiful in every sense of the word. That could be pardoned – all the Targaryens were beautiful). In spite of all that, his personality truly was horrifying. Looks could only get a person so far.
Still, Doreah refused to leave, telling Alia that she wanted to stay there to help in any way possible. Alia wasn't stupid – she knew what that meant. She also knew that Doreah had served as his personal bedwarmer a few times, but that wasn't any of her concern. In fact, if Doreah hadn't spoken about "laying with the Dragon" on several occasions, Alia would be none the wiser about the whole... ordeal.
Doreah was a handmaiden for Daenerys from Lys, formerly a bedslave, with long brown hair and tanned skin. Her eyes were of a deep, rich blue, and shaped like almonds, framed by a thick set of dark lashes. Nevertheless, she filled her head with utter nonsense. Doreah claimed to have seen all sorts of strange people from her time spent in the pleasure house – whatever ridiculous thing she said, the next thing was even more improbable.
Her presence was incredibly distracting, and no matter how hard she tried, Alia was still painfully aware that she was there. Doreah sifted her fingers through Viserys' silver hair, smiling down on him, despite the fact that Alia had told her countless times that she'd only wake him up. The way she looked at him was unnerving – as though he was the only light in her life. After all those years spent in a pleasure house, Alia wondered if Doreah remembered not to grow attached to her 'clients'.
"Move," Alia said dismissively, holding a bowl of cool water in her hands. Doreah was lounging on the bed at such an angle, Alia couldn't tend to her king comfortably. She must not have heard her. "Doreah, move."
Perhaps she could have been kinder, but Alia was in no mood. She just wanted to finish what she had to do and leave as soon as possible, before the Dragon woke up. Doreah turned to Alia lazily, smiling snidely.
"Can it not wait, my Lady? Can I not just sit with him for a few moments more?"
Alia shifted her weight to one foot, holding the bowl impatiently. "If you want his fever to worsen, of course. If not, no. Move."
