Game of Survival

Chapter 6

"Prince Daemon, to see you, Your Grace."

The call came from Ser Criston, who stood guard at her door. Even without having seen the knight, Alicent knew that the Dornishman would have a scowl painted across his lips. Her own were pursed in confusion and her eyes widened in a mixture of surprise and fear. It had been three days since she had seen the prince in the garden. After she had threatened him, Alicent quickly returned to her chambers where she collapsed into one of the chairs before the hearth. The fire had long since gone out but that was no matter. She could hardly feel the cold with the numbness that had settled into her bones. Alicent did not know whether she should laugh or cry. She could not believe what she had done. Alicent Hightower had just threatened Daemon Targaryen.

She did not know what had come over her. Maybe it was Aegon's words that had haunted her, his sad eyes and the downturned lips that were puckered in hurt and self-doubt. Maybe it was the joy in Visenya's eyes at having her father finally pay attention to her and her hobbies, a joy that Alicent knew would be crushed when Viserys ignored her again in favour of his brother. Maybe it was Rhaenys' disappointment that her father did nit come to watch her archery lesson. Maybe she was just tired of his unabashed rudeness, arrogance and self-entitlement and it was his attitude that had pushed her to the edge. Whatever it was, Alicent had done it and she could never take it back. Her thoughts had raced as she fled the garden, her mind conjuring all the ways in which he could retaliate. Daemon was not one to take a threat lightly even if he felt like the opponents could do nothing against him. For him, the sheer audacity warranted swift punishment which he usually dealt out with brutality and mocking japes.

Alicent had kept the children close to her that day as well as the day after. The little ones did not comment on their mother's tired eyes and tight hugs. They bore it in silence and basked in her kisses, being sure to return the affection and not ceasing until a smile bloomed on her face and sparkles of joy had appeared in her golden-brown orbs, driving away the anxiety dwelling within their depths. Her children were not with her today. After two days of keeping them in her room, Alicent could no longer find any plausible excuses to stop them from going to their lessons. Aegon was currently with the maester who would be teaching him his numbers and sums. He would then break for lunch before his lessons with the maester who would teach him High Valyrian. Rhaenys and Visenya were with Septa Morella who was instructing them in the art of sewing (much to the older girl's annoyance as that was not the type of pointy object that she wished to wield.) The girls would then join Aegon in his lessons in High Valyrian and all of the children would be finished with their learning for the day. Helaena, much too young to be involved in the lessons, would be spending her day with her handmaidens in the nursery. Alicent was eternally grateful that she had sent the children on their way. Despite knowing that he would not hurt them with a guard standing at the door, she did not think that she would be comfortable with her children being in the same room as Daemon. Alicent was not comfortable being alone in a room with him but she would not insult the prince by sending him away.

She sat up in her chair, set her embroidery to the side, and took a deep breath before calling the to the King's Guard. "He may enter, Ser Criston."

The door creaked as it opened and Daemon waltzed into the room. He walked over and gave her a mocking bow before sitting across from her. Daemon made no move to speak and neither did she. He was, after all, the one who had come to her. Alicent would not be the one to break the awkward silence that had settled over them. She could feel his eyes taking her in and Alicent made sure that her face remained void of emotion, a blank canvas that masked her true discomfort of having him sitting so close. She studied him in turn, cataloguing everything that she could without seeming like she was staring at him. He was dressed in a simple black tunic that he wore over a pair of breeches. Daemon had no weapon on his person that she could see. The prince had entered her chambers devoid of Dark Sister on his hip, one of the first times that she had seen him without the beloved ancestral sword. That should have comforted her but Alicent knew better than to assume that Daemon was not armed just because she could not see the blade.