¹ 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐒 ━━ 𝐝. 𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧

viii. betrayal is bitter

✧˖° 🌑 ೄྀ࿐
━ [ SONG OF SORROWS ] ༉‧₊˚✧
x. act one... the dragon's daughter
betrayal is bitter ━ ✩・*。

— 112 A.C
RED KEEP, KING'S LANDING

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VALERYS TARGARYEN had nearly been claimed by sleep when she was roused by a hand upon her shoulder, an unrestrained urgency in the swift action. Vision muddled by the once-overwhelming darkness, she blinked up rapidly at whoever had awoken her, groaning at words her ears could not decipher. The flicker of candlelight alit her face, heat touching her skin with a brazen finger, shedding light on Ser Loren, and his corkscrew face.

"What could you possibly need at his hour?" muttered Valerys, shrinking away from the warmth that encroached on her skin; it served as a bitter reminder of how the day had ended.

Ser Loren's lips ticked upwards. "Your father has requested your presence in the cellars. He asked me to retrieve you."

Stumbling out of bed on legs of malleable bone, Valerys smoothed out peignoir, acutely aware her state of undress was considered scandalous, especially in front of her sworn shield. Respectfully, Ser Loren averted his eyes to the now-very interesting wall behind him. Lacking the will to find another garment to throw upon herself, Valerys' mind wandered to exactly why her father had sought her out so deep into the night; granted, sleep had yet to claim her, and with the day she had endured, doubted it would, but the annoyance was all the same.

"Seven Hells," bit Valerys, skin settling into the cold of her room. Folding her arms against her chest, she looked to see Ser Loren still dutifully staring away. "You are allowed to look, you know? It's not like I'm laid bare."

Ser Loren cleared his throat, face tinged with pink, though Valerys could not tell it it were from the candle held close to his face. Without so much as a word, he started out of the room, taking with him the generous light that Valerys had grown welcome to. Now, left alone in the blithering darkness, cold enough to wither a newborn flower, Valerys felt that familiar crushing weight bare down on her chest, extinguishing the breath in her lungs, punctured by a loose arrow. How she hated darkness.

The light remained outside the door, and Valerys followed, a moth to the flame that staved away her looming fear. The pair began off, the silence haunting Valerys bones. Quiet as a tomb, the Red Keep remained blanketed in sleep; sleep she had so unfairly lost. Again her mind flitted to her father. What could he want?

"Did he tell you of his reasoning?" asked Valerys after a generous moment of their silent journey. All that resounded in the large halls was the clink of metal against metal and the soft pattering of unclothed feet.

A chuckle arose from Ser Loren. "Does anyone ever tell me anything?"

"I do," said Valerys, feigning insult.

It was partially true; Ser Loren had been in her life since she was the mere age of eight, while he had just recently been knighted at ten and six. A strange match, the young Valerys refused to allow any others to be in her service. Claims that the princess was enamored with her sworn shield had become well-known within King's Landing, but she never paid them any mind. He was a good friend and confidant, nothing more. Moreover, the scandal of her coupling with her Kingsguard was one she did not want to deal with.