"The King is ill, my lady, he has to take to his bed and cannot accompany you on your walk, today", Lord Otto Hightower said, barring Lady Rhea's path as she tried entering the King's chambers.
Lady Rhea's brow furrowed and she shove the Hand aside.
"I'd like to see that for myself, thank you, Lord Hand", she stated loudly as she entered the Royal Chambers, closing the door behind her.
As soon as the doors were closed, she heard the King's Hand open them again, she could see his figure leaning against the frame. He was surely trying to listen in on her conversation. Very well, she would make sure he heard what she had to say.
King Viserys' model of Old Valyria stood ever so proudly in the middle of the room, as a welcoming piece to anyone who might wander there, and the drapes hung from the windows, flowing lightly as a warm breeze made its way inside. Incense burnt and its smell filled the room, poorly covering the smell which was coming from the King himself, which was that of rotting meat and dirty teeth. Lady Rhea tried not to gag as she came closer to the King, which saddened her. Seeing him so fragile, so small broke her heart, yet she felt determined not to show the King it was him who caused her distress.
For months now, the King's disease had spread, stronger than it ever did before, and it caused his Grace such pains he mainly stayed in his bed, drinking Milk of the Poppy to rid himself of all feeling, good or bad. There he was, on his bed, almost hidden under a great pile of covers and pillows, almost so small that Lady Rhea could not see him, and she reminisced back to her childhood years, when she would run inside those chambers and jump on the King's bed as soon as she woke. A sad smile stretched her face as she sat on the edge of the King's bed. He rose his hand to meet hers and gave it the slightest squeeze, his body still weak after the amputation of his other arm.
"My King, I came here today to ask if you would enjoy a walk outside, in the gardens", she started, turning her gaze to him.
The King tried sitting up but only managed to let a few grunts and pained gasps out.
"Might you come back later, sweet child? I am afraid I am in no condition for a walk today", the King had a pained expression painted across his sickly face.
Rhea rose to her feet.
"Yes, your Grace. Has the Hand told you about my daily visits to your bedside? I meant, my attempts to visit you, as he would not let me in", she asked, her back to the King who coughed loudly.
"No, he hasn't."
Rhea rolled her eyes and scoffed.
"Of course not", she uttered. "I suppose he is the one to supply you with your tea, your Grace?"
"He is, the Hand has been of great service to me lately."
Rhea turned to face her adoptive father.
"Right", she straightened her light blue dress. "Well, I shall leave you to it, then, your Grace. You must rest, and I must prepare for my journey back to Craw Isle, my father's nameday is soon coming and I would like to commemorate it by going to his old home."
The King stiffened in his bed and his scrawny hand brushed against his ward's to catch her attention. She turned to face him again, his small, hurt body slowly rising from the bed to stand. He had a look in his eye she had not seen in years, something had motivated him to leave his resting place and walk to the door, shutting it once again, as his Hand was still listening closely.
The King leaned on the closed door, catching his breath, and gestured for his ward to seat next to his construction of Old Valyria, which she did. Each breath he drew grew more and more unsteady and he placed a hand on his forehead, reaching for his tea, but once he brought the cup to his lips, in a moment of clarity, he cast it aside of a small table and sat to face his young ward.
"My child, I believe your father to have been murdered," the King whispered.
Lady Rhea sprung up, blood rushing to her ears as she tried to take in what the King had just said. She looked at him, distraught, tears filling her eyes.
"My father was found dead in his bed, most probably, he died in his sleep", the girl tried to reason, the cogs turning in her brain to find every little thing she could to refute the King's words to her.
"Your father was found dead in his bed, yet he was not even in his forties, do you not think it strange that his heart failed him so early in his life?" The King's breath was mucous and he coughed again.
Rhea looked around her and fixed her gaze upon of the small dragons her King had handmade to steady her thoughts. She folded her hands on her lap and toyed with the silver ring she always wore on her pinky finger.
"I was a child, then, I barely understood what it meant to lose my father," she started. "How could I even think, at five, that my only family had been murdered? I did not the word back then."
"Yet you do now, and you realize why I am telling you now, do you not, my child?"
Rhea paused to think. She understood the King's will to protect her as a child, from the ugly truths of the world they lived in, and she understood he had kept this secret to himself all those years, surely eating him away from the inside, to keep her safe, still. Her gaze was blurry and she could barely keep it on the King now, who was patting her folded hands to appease her.
"I am telling you now, my child, because there will come a time when I could not. Soon, my existence will be but a memory, and I do not wish to take this secret to my grave. I was too weak a man, too weak a king, to do anything about my suspicions when you were a babe, but I know you will bring light to this matter." The King spoke softly, she could barely hear him. "The week your father died, a great deal of essence of nightshade was stolen from the Maester's keep. I had my people look into it but nothing ever came of it. I am sure these events are related, but I cannot prove it."
Rhea rose to her feet, pacing the room, which started to feel small and suffocating. The walls felt like they were closing in on her and she had to put a hand on her beating heart to stop herself from collapsing.
"I am sorry to burden you with such matters, my child. I really am, but it was time I told you." King Viserys walked over to her, a cane in his valid hand. "You and Alicent are the only two people who know about this. Should I lose my mind now, as I have slowly lost my body, you two can share the burden."
And with that, the King sat back in his bed, asking his ward to bring him his tea, which she did, looking suspiciously into the cup. Her heart was pounding, her ears were drumming and she could not think straight. She bid the King goodbye and walked out, ignoring the Hand's questions, walking away from it all as fast as she could. She needed to see Sapphire, to fly, to try and clear her head. The Dragonpit was a long way from the Red Keep, but it did not matter. She darted in the halls, trying to stop the tears from leaving her eyes. She was now almost running, her dress flowing noisily around her, and she ran around a corner, but hit what she thought was a wall. She took a step back, wiped her eyes and looked up. A tall silver-haired man, dressed in the finest leather, his arms crossed in his back was staring down at her, worry riddling his face. He took her elbow in his hand and tried to scan her face, to see what could have befallen her. She never cried, nor did she ever do it in the halls of the Red Keep for all of the court to see. He had only seen her do it a few times since she turned fourteen.
"Rhea? Are you hurt?" Aemond's voice barely shook her back to reality.
She felt a lump form in her throat as she struggled to get the words out.
"I need to go outside," is all she could gather.
Aemond's hand was still on her arm, and he used his other arm to place in on the small of her back, guiding her out of the Red Keep. Her legs were wobbly and her hands were shaking, he could feel it just by standing close to her.
Once they had reached the gardens, he sat her down on a stone bench, facing the Blackwater Bay. Instead of sitting next to her on the bench, he knelt in front of her, both his hands on her arms, seeking her eyes with his. Her blue eyes were puffy, filled with tears and it killed him to see her that way.
"Rhea, my lady..." he started, stroking her cheek gently, wiping a tear away. "Who hurt you?"
He had reached for the dagger he always wore on his side and had this terrifying look in his eye. She smiled softly and his gaze subdued.
"I...no one hurt me." She scratched her sore throat.
The prince sat next to her, his hands still resting on hers, he kept silent, waiting for her to speak again.
"I have just left your father's side, where he told me a thing he had kept to himself since I was a child, since I was taken in by your family." She swallowed. "Only your mother, the Queen, and I, know of it. I am asking for your discretion on the matter, Aemond." She paused to look at him through teary eyes and he nodded, agreeing to keep quiet on what she was about to confide in him.
"My father...was killed, he did not die a natural death, nor a peaceful one. He was poisoned."
Aemond's gaze shifted from his lady's eyes, to her lips, to her shoulder, which bore the scar she had gotten as a child, while training with a real sword when she had been instructed to use a false one. The scar was an ugly, deep one which ran from the front of her body all the way to her shoulder blades. The King had a thin, light chain-mail fashioned for her to wear, and she had kept it all those years. She used to wear it atop her garments as a teen, but stopped a few years back. Aemond swallowed, thinking about how his lady might now be in harm's way. Anguish slowly crept in his brain as he tried to keep his face from showing the true nature of his thoughts.
"Rhea?" He called her name.
She jerked her head to face him, a soft smile forming as she realized he was worried about her. She cupped his face and tilted her head lightly, her eyes fluttering.
"Yes, Aemond?" She asked.
"Do you think the King might've told you because he was worried your life might be in danger?"
She paused to think for a moment.
"I didn't, but now that you mention it, he was awfully careful not to let anyone else hear him." She looked straight in his eye, worry all over his features. "I wouldn't worry about it too much, if the person who poisoned my father had wished me to be dead, I believe I would have died already. Why wait all those years, with knights guarding my doors and following my every move? Surely it would have been easier to kill me at the time?"
He looked at her, amazed.
"You're certainly right, I'm sure," Aemond said. "Still, it would make my days and nights more tranquil if I could make sure of it myself."
He rose to his feet and offered her his hand, which she gladly took as they began walking back to the castle, slowly. Her eyes were no longer teary. Aemond stroke Rhea's hand fondly as he walked beside her, his eye fixed on her every move.
"Here, have this, my lady," Aemond said gently as he handed Lady Rhea the dagger which hung from his side. "If I cannot be here always to protect you, then let me at least give you this, so you can protect yourself."
She took the dagger from his warm hands, her fingers brushing his. Her face was now a lovely shade of red, all the way to her ears and a huge smile graced her lips.
"Thank you, Aemond," the girl breathed. "Won't you miss it? I know it is your favourite."
"I won't miss it more than I'd miss you if anything should happen-"
She placed two fingers on his lips to silence him and laughed at the stunned look on his face.
"Thank you, again", she said softly. "Please, don't worry about me too much. I was fine before I knew and I'll be fine again."
The prince took a quick scan of their surroundings before pulling Lady Rhea close to him, his long hair brushing her face. He lowered his head and locked lips with her in a loving embrace.
"I won't let anyone near you, my lady", the prince promised.