>CHAPTER NINETEEN: KEPA'S CONCERN<
Saera rubs her son's back - comforting him away from the thought of his father brutally hurting his mentor. The fight in the courtyard seemed to rattle his brain, prompting him to look at his parental figures in a different light. 'Father attacks, and mother protects.'
"Are you alright, ñuha ōños? (my light)" she inquires, while handing him a goblet of water. "Kessa, (yes)" he answers, muttering a round of thanks while he gobbles the drink down. As soon as she realizes that her son was alright - her eyes begin to nail daggers into Harwin's body.
"You couldn't have avoided it?" she antagonized, but with a soft voice - not expecting him to cleverly maim Ser Criston. "He tried to stain my honor," he argued, earning another glare from his wife. " - and by reacting, you have confirmed it in their eyes." she nagged. After Prince's Joffrey's birth, Saera's anger for Harwin seemed to grow even further.
"Do you suggest that I stand there and take his insults lightly?" he inquired with a sarcastic tone, crossing his arms in a standoffish demeanor. "Yes!" she answered. " - even when it brings my loyalty into question?" he scoffed, and her eyes widened slightly. "Your loyalty is not for disloyal men to decide. If it is - then perhaps it isn't yours to begin with." she raised her voice slowly - not wanting to fight in front of her child.
He was about to say another word - but his eyes trail down to his son. Daegon was the thickest of his blood, his heir, and son. He took a deep breath, "The situation was in control," he hummed, crossing his arms - not wanting to surrender the battle. "I don't want it happening again." she said firmly, hands tight around her son's back.
He nodded his head.
"Of course," his lips settled into a thin line.
He turns his back behind his family - feeling an ache form in his head. How long has it been since he's had a proper conversation with his wife? Three years ago? Four years ago? He couldn't even remember the smell of her perfume at night, or her calm breathing. There was a time where he promised to give her his best self - but those were gone, never to return.
He sees the way that she stares at him - with storms in her eyes, braving a battle between loving or hating him forever. He doesn't want that - because all his heart ever desires is Rhaenyra. Rhaenyra whose eyes held constellations and colors that he's never seen. Rhaenyra who has given him three healthy sons.
He has reached a point too far to ever return - and perhaps, he doesn't want to return at all.
—
"Aegon and Jacaerys were talking about you." Helaena hums, petting the small centipede hidden in her palms. Helaena was Viserys' true forgotten daughter - the Princess that no one remembers. "You cried, they said - and Princess Saera had to comfort you." she explains with no reluctance, not realizing that Daegon's face was turning a pink hue.
"I didn't cry," he lied - not wanting to be emasculated in the eyes of his aunt. "It's alright to cry, my mother says that it makes you stronger." she smiled, eyes still painted on the bug on her hands.
In his eyes however - Helaena was the mystical creature, his aunt who was older than him always had a strange aura following her. Saera tells him that Helaena is a very smart girl - but the people at court say that she is a half-wit. Daegon knows better than to believe his hearsay.
"Can we stop talking about that," he complains, not wanting to expand upon the thought that his father and idol - would do something to harm another person. " - I'd like to hear more about your dreams." he pleaded, laying his head on the silk pillow that adorned Helaena's carpeted chambers.
Her voice flowed like honey - words that exited her mouth always left him imagining a place far away. "They aren't dreams - merely verses that come to me." Helaena corrects, placing the bug down inside his little home. "Tell me about them, then please." he demanded - eyes twinkling with joy.
She gathers a few shells - banging them together to form a tune. "I haven't quite gotten the first sentences yet, but I know that it ends like this," she explains tapping the shells to create a small melody - loud enough so they'd be the only ones listening.
" - in the end, we all become spools of white, the ashes that we came from." she looked at the ceiling, praying that she'd remember the other words to the prophecy.
"Like Winter?" he asked - remembering his mother's story about the Starks."Or fire." she responded.
—
Saera played with the ball on the council-table, eyes darting around the room to anticipate what kind of meeting would begin.
"I have felt the strife between our families and for any offense given by me, I apologize - but we are one house and long before that, we were friends. My son, Jacaerys will inherit the throne after me and I propose that we marry him to your daughter, Helaena, to ally ourselves once and for all." Rhaenyra smiled, reciting the string of words that she and Saera prepared.
It would be best to end the war before it began.
"Additionally if Melarys and Syrax bring forth another clutch of eggs, your son Aemond will have his choice of them." Rhaenyra continued, meeting the eyes of her sister. Saera's hand moved to her necklace, fiddling with it as she realized that Alicent's face began to turn sour.
Idiot. She thought as the Queen began to rise from her chair.
Saera knows about Alicent's plan of marrying Helaena and Aegon. It was the worst political decision she's ever heard - but Alicent was never the one to think about the future. "We will think about it, Rhaenyra - you've just finished your labors with Prince Joffrey. You should rest." Alicent smiles bitterly.
Saera's grip on the necklace tightened.
That means 'no.'
She'll have to think of other ways again. Perhaps her son, Daegon? But then Rhaenyra would believe that she did that on purpose, to outshine her own boys.
—
"Being in court is infuriating." Saera ranted, taking a large swig of her ale. When she was young - she didn't understand why her uncle was always angry, but now she does - because they were all idiots. "Alicent has denied a betrothal between Helaena and Jace, which confirms my suspicion that she believes that Aegon has a chance in becoming King." she rolled her eyes.
Rhaenyra was heir because of a decree - not custom, thus it led to the Hightowers having more plans than necessary.
"My brother loves all his children - but I know for a fact that he adores Aemma's girls. Rhaenyra especially." Daemon hummed, listening at his niece's words cautiously. He's taken a leave with the council - now focusing upon training the new recruits of the gold-cloaks. Harwin was still commander, but they listened to the Rogue Prince more.
" - but Aegon is a man, and that far outweighs anything." she argued, skin prickling at the thought of someone usurping her sister. "Rhaenyra is equipped - Ser Otto agrees that she is the second coming of King Jahaerys." she explained, feeling the alcohol course through her veins.
"The very reason my father is king is because Princess Rhaenys is a woman." she enunciated, praying to the gods that her kepus would get the point. "I don't care about Rhaenyra, sweet girl." he hums, pulling her closer to his lap. She leans her head on his chest - thinking of everything.
" - instead of thinking about your sister, think about how you can keep our children safe," he whispered. If war breaks, then their children are in the front spikes. "As much as you hate to believe it - you are Rhaenyra's heir." he asserts, pressing a soft kiss on her forehead.
" - and her bastards have lesser claims," he adds.