CHAPTER FOUR

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I was in the main room of High Tide when I woke up, feeling the fast spinning of my head and doing my best to ignore the wetness in my right temple and cheek.

A silent groan was born in the back of my throat at the numerous people in the room, and only as my older brother kneeled beside me I realized, I was laying on the cold ground. How did I even get there, I didn't know.

Jacaerys frowned his brows, helping me to my feet, and held back a grimace as I uncontrollably hissed when a sudden pain pierced my forehead. I brought my hand there, the coldness of my fingers slightly bettering the throbbing pain.

I heard another groan, but it was not me.

Even in the middle of the night and under the catastrophic circumstances, Alicent held the royal aura of a queen. Her gown, green as every other piece of clothing I had ever seen her wearing, made a great contrast with her light brown hair, brushed in perfect waves as if she hadn't been sleeping precious the intrusion. She was chewing on the nail of her thumb, standing next to Maester Edmund, who seemed to be stitching someone sitting before them both.

Silver, straight long hair, dark green trousers and golden ring in his right hand. Aemond.

I felt my heart sinking in my stomach at the noise of the needle penetrating his skin, and the faint noises my uncle was making almost unconsciously. As if he was trying too hard to stay quiet yet was failing miserably.

My gaze, a bit unfocused in my right eye, desperately searched for the rest of my family, repeating the previous events in my mind in order to ignore Aemond. The twins were clutched to grandmother Rhaenys' hands, and grandsire Corlys stood before them as if trying to hide them for the unbearable gaze of the Hand of the King.

I uncontrollably sighed with relief once I caught sight of Luke's little smile. He was next to our grandparents as well, his nose not longer bleeding yet still covered in the red substance, and I felt much better once I noticed Lord Corlys' hand on his shoulder. Jacaerys helped me walk there, and soon enough my arms protected them all as much as my grandsire's.

"It will heal, will it not, Maester?" Alicent asked, keeping her gaze on her son's face and covering her mouth when he groaned again.

"The flesh will heal," I let go of the air I didn't even know I was holding, unconsciously clenching my hands. "But the eye is lost, Your Grace."

She approached her oldest son, slapping him across the face and mumbling things about abuses and wine. And I had to chew on my bottom lip as my dear aunt Helaena jumped on her place, unconsciously taking a sept aside as if trying to avoid her mother's murderous glance and tongue.

The Heir to the Iron Throne finally decided to show up, and, as if her sixth sense as mother had activated, her violet eyes quickly spotted us among the people. Her steps, fast and almost clumsy, desperately brought her before us, and her maternal hands inspected Luke's nose and Jace's broken lip before bringing her gaze to my own. Her eyes shocked with surprise when she saw the wound in my head, and her hand cupped my face in order to have a proper look of it.  

I did not knew how it looked like, but if it was anything like the way it hurted then it was bad.

"I'm okay. Don't worry." I whispered, bringing my hand atop her own and carefully removing her hold on my face with a last squeeze. She nodded, yet her brows remained frowned.

"Who did this?"

She straightened her posture, standing in the place I was before and searching for my hand in the space between our bodies. I gave up to her wish, in need for her touch, and I felt my heart steadying itself on my chest as she lovingly squeezed it. Her other arm found it's way around Lucerys' shoulders, and Jacaerys had content himself with a only a brief smile.

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