The Blood of Old Valyria

VII

Viserys sighed heavily, finally deciding to talk to his daughter.

Dayraena sat little Neria on the ottoman that stood by the bookcase. The little girl leaned awkwardly back and waved her arms, sighing as if she was disappointed in having to get off her aunt's arms.

Dayraena giggled, fascinated by her niece.

There was a woman's fervent silence in the library. There was not a single living soul here, all the courtiers had left for the tournament that was about to begin. And given what exactly she was going to do, the lack of people played into her hands.

She took a dragon-shaped toy from the oak table and held it out to Aeneiria. She grabbed it and pulled it, releasing it from Raena's grasp. The baby's attention was now completely focused on the dragon.

Dayraena left her niece alone with the toy and briefly lost herself among the racks. She returned with a stack of parchment and a small book. All of this was soon on the carved table. A few minutes later, the jars of ingredients were there as well.

The woman began the process of preparing the deadly potion, the recipe for which she had found this morning. It was the one Dayraena had been reading about when Rhaenyra burst into her room. There were quite a few ways to kill Dayron, but Rhaena preferred the one for which no one would suspect her. Except for Dayron himself, of course. He, once he felt the effects of the curse, would definitely start slandering Dayraena. But neither he nor anyone else will have proof of her guilt.

The liquid in the bowl boiled without even standing on the fire. Colorless at first, it suddenly turned a dark, even black hue. Dayraena glanced at the book and, realizing that everything was going right, added a few more ingredients. Where did she get them? The answer is simple. Dayraena always tried to take as much as she could with her to King's Landing. For the most part, the recipes didn't require anything rare, and if they did, the Flaming Dragon Castle surely had them. Since the days of Raera and Vaera Gelarion, the collection of various plants and other things has been growing. All the ladies of the House have contributed to the development of Valyrian magic.

Dayraena leaned her arms on the table, wondering on whom to test the deadly curse. Only mice and rats that inhabited the castle came to mind. More than once she had noticed these brisk and sometimes very fat animals, which were especially plentiful after noisy feasts.

Aeneiria dozed off, warmed by the warm rays of sunlight that seeped into the room through the carved casements. The toy had slipped from her small hands and was now lying needlessly on the floor.

Rhaena wondered if she should take her niece to her room to sleep in peace, but then she feared that taking her in the arms would wake little girl, so she did not disturb Neria.

The woman went out into the corridor and called for the first servant she saw. He was a young man of short stature, slender build, with sparse short straight hair of light brown color. His oval face had a narrow nose and small lips. His surprised gray eyes ran nervously over Dayraena's face, not knowing where to focus. Eventually the kid just stared at the floor, ready to listen to orders.

"What's your name?" Rhaena asked, trying to sound friendly to make the servant feel more relaxed.

Gray eyes dug into the woman's face. He hadn't expected such a question at all.

"Vilis, my lady," the boy introduced himself uncertainly. Dayraena smiled warmly.

"I want to ask you something."

"Anything, my lady," the young man bowed slightly. No noble lord or lady had said as many words to him in the past two years at the castle as Dayraena had. He listened intently to her every word, mesmerized not only by her beauty but also by her voice.