Fire and Blood

Chapter 32: Return of the Young Dragon

Red Keep ― Maegor's Holdfast...

Months had passed since the crown's journey to Dragonstone concluded. But with the arrival of the Summer Festival, things in King's Landing were expected to become livelier. Entertainment, drink, food, guests from across the Crownlands and nearby lords and knights began to make the venture to the capital city for the celebration. Maids and servants lit candles within the lanterns, scattering to carry them to nearby windows and balconies.

Viserys spent time in his room making and adding to his model of Old Valyria, sculpting each piece, and creating specific Valyrian carvings into the model. Nearby, a weary Beatrice bounced a crying Helaena on her lap. No matter how hard she tried to quiet her daughter, the princess continued her ceaseless wailing.

"Viserys," Beatrice called out, "can you please give me a hand? Helaena won't stop crying."

The king did not answer but continued working on his model. Moving a scalpel left, the tip of the blade curved downward very slowly. Viserys wanted to get the exact details as accurately as possible.

"Viserys?"

Again, the king did not answer.

"Viserys!"

Finally, after another shout, Viserys got distracted, causing the model tower to receive a deep gash in the corner. To his significant irritation, the king finally broke from his concentration and looked at his second wife. "What?" he replied visibly annoyed.

Beatrice, now living a dreary married life, looked at him with contempt. "I'm very tired. Her crying will not cease. Can you at least stop with your model and assist me with calming our daughter down?" she again insisted.

Viserys turned to the maids. "Have my daughter brought to her cradle, and tend to her needs," he instructed. Firmly. The recent visit to Dragonstone hadn't yielded any results with his estranged heir, much to his disappointment. Once the servants were out of sight with a still crying Helaena, the king redirected his attention to Beatrice. "Why do you persist on the matter when there is... practically almost nothing left for us to discuss?" he asked. "I made a fool out of myself based on the reports you gave me, only to find out later they were devious, fabricated lies that drove us further apart."

"You know I've held my tongue on the matter, and I feel for you on the deterioration you have with your son, but continuing to hold that over my head is not only an insult but also a cruel one," Beatrice knew what the king was talking about. I need a good excuse to deflect the blame and shift it toward someone else. "Yes, I do regret not having them checked, yet if anything the messenger should not have been such an illiterate ingrate who couldn't even tell the difference between truth and a fantasy."

"And what exactly are you implying?"

"You know what I'm implying."

Viserys banged the table. "Regardless of who's to blame here, the consequences of an allegation like that would be direr than you'd imagine," he said. He rose from his seat. "Do you wish to have your blood on the Iron Throne so badly that you are willing to destroy mine own?"

Beatrice frowned. "Are you accusing me, Viserys?" she replied.

"No, I'm merely commanding you to never do that again. Aeonar is my son, my first son, and my heir since I named him when he was merely 10 years old. So do not speak of this again."

Beatrice suspected that Viserys appeared to indicate that the fiasco that led to the estrangement between the king and prince was somehow her own doing, but there was no proof of anything to back it up. Her benefactor worked wonders to pull the queen out of trouble and shift the blame onto someone else – a rapist, murderer, and traitor to the crown. When the king was given this report, Viserys immediately had all three men's tongues ripped out. For now, Beatrice remained in the clear, but she would have to work harder to cover her tracks.