Lord Lyonel briefed the council on the tensions brewing in the Riverlands, the region Camilla had been born in yet held no memory of. It was strange to hear of her family's lands, the place she would have grown up if only her hair was not silver and eyes a shade other than violet.
Though that was not all that filled her mind. Her eyes rested sharply on Rhaenyra from across the table. Camilla wondered if word of Ser Harwin's actions had reached Rhaenyra, if she knew her lover would be chased from court, leaving her and her children behind. It filled the Queen with a sick sense of satisfaction.
"It is Lord Blackwood's contention, therefore, that the Brackens moved the boundary stones in the dead of the night and put their horses to graze in his field."
"Why was this issue not brought before Lord Grover, my grandsire?" Camilla asked as Lyonel paused for breath. "Has he grown so feeble he cannot settle a quarrel over rocks?"
"I've heard tale that your father now rules Riverrun in all but name, Your Grace." Lord Jasper Wylde answered.
"Well he is also a Tully, so this remains a Tully problem." Camilla spoke, her voice carrying a note of finality.
"I would agree." Visery spoke, siding with his wife. Camilla smiled sweetly at her husband, placing her hand on his forearm in thanks. The King seemed to preen under his wife's attention, straightening in his seat
"If we may move on, my lords-" Ser Tyland began.
"And yet," Rhaenyra interrupted, her gaze meeting Camilla's. "The Brackens and the Blackwoods will use any excuse to spill each other's blood, anyone familiar with the Riverlands would know such a fact. So this dispute bears looking into. There will be countryfolk who know where the lines have been drawn for generations."
"That is easy enough." Lyonel said.
"Of course." Camilla muttered into her cup as she seethed in embarrassment and anger at Rhaenyra's comment on her homeland. The Princess had always known the topic was a sensitive one and now she used it against her former friend.
"Ser Tyland?" Lyonel addressed the Master of Ships, giving him the chance to speak.
"We should address the latest developments in the Stepstones, my lords."
"Will we ever be shut of that blasted place?" Viserys complained.
"If you ask me, I think the Blackwoods have the upper hand." Lord Beesbury spoke, adding to the former conversation.
"We've moved onto the Stepstones, Lord Beesbury." the Grand Maester whispered.
"And the Triarchy's new alliance with Dorne." Ser Tyland added loudly.
"I was hoping our negotiations with Sunspear might persuade them to see reason." Viserys coughed. "To trust a Martell is to be disappointed."
Dorne was strong, Camilla thought, they would be a powerful ally. The Queen glanced to her left where Daemion sat, it had been somewhat easy to convince Viserys to allow her son to attend. Doubt still tainted Viserys' mind when he thought of his heir, something Camilla knew well. If her son was to sit the Iron Throne he would need powerful allies, and what was a better way to secure an ally then by a marriage.
"And where I wonder is our Prince Daemon?" Lord Jasper snidely questioned. "Or I suppose I should call him King, as he styled himself when he won a battle there once."
"That was a decade ago," The words fell from Camilla's lips without a thought of how her defending the Prince might come across. "And Prince Daemon won the Stepstones for Westeros."
"And yet we have left it undefended." Rhaenyra argued. "There should have been fortifications built, watchtowers, a fleet of ships, a garrison of soldiers sent to hold our ground."
"We cannot afford it." Camilla interjected. "Our coffers are great but not infinite. We must consider the cost to our subjects."
"I must agree-" Lord Beesbury spoke.
"The cost of war is greater." Rhaenyra interrupted loudly. "But we have been lax and the old monster now lifts its head."
"What shall we do then?" Daemion's voice was clear, as he spoke for the first time in that session. "Raise taxes for the small folk and beggar our people? Risk riots and rebellions breaking out? We must think of our subjects."
Camilla smiled at her son, feeling proud of him for speaking against his sister and considering the wellbeing of their people.
"Let us be finished." Camilla stood from her seat causing the rest of the small council members to follow their Queen's lead.
"Wait." Rhaenyra ordered. "I wish to speak."
"Be seated." Viserys sighed, motioning for everyone to sit down. All sat but Camilla, who remained standing in front of her chair, not allowing the Princess this small sign of respect.
"I have felt the strife between our families of late, My Queen." Rhaenyra started. "And for any offense given by mine, I apologize. But we are one house. And long before that, you were my friend. My son Jacaerys will inherit the Iron Throne after me. I propose we betroth him to your youngest daughter, Maegella. Ally ourselves once and for all. Let them rule together."
"A most judicious proposition." Viserys praised his daughter before looking to Camilla. Though the Queen remained still, her sharp gaze locked on Rhaenyra.
"Additionally, if Syrax brings forth another clutch of eggs, your son Aemond will have his choice of them, a symbol of our goodwill." As the Princess spoke, Camilla noticed a dark spot began to grow on the front of Rhaenyra's dress.
"Rhaenyra," Camilla whispered, looking from the young mother's face to her chest. Rhaenyra looked down, spotting the stains. She quickly crossed her arms over her chest, covering herself. A quick glance around the room showed all the men averting their eyes out of respect.
"My dear," Viserys spoke as Rhaenyra sat down. "A dragon's egg is a handsome gift."
"The King and I thank you for your generous offer, and we will consider it duly." Camilla dismissed Rhaenyra, as she moved to Viserys' side. " You must rest now, husband."
Camilla patted her son on the shoulder as she passed, leading Viserys from the room.
★・・・・・・★
Servants and Nobles rushed through the Red Keep's main hall, moving out of the King and Queen's way. Their voices echoing against the stone walls, creating a cacophony of noises that grated against Camilla's nerves.
"How sweetly the fox speaks when it's been cornered by the hounds." Camilla spoke.
"She is sincere." Viserys argued.
"She is desperate, Viserys. She feels the walls closing in on her." Camilla argued. "The earth washes away at her feet and now she expects us to ignore her transgressions and for me to marry one of my daughters to one of her plain featured sons."
"The Proposal is a good one, my Queen." Viserys continued to argue in favor of his daughter. "We're a family. Let us put aside these childish quarrels, join hands and be stronger for it."
"You may do as you wish, husband, when I am cold in my grave." Camilla turned from Viserys, rushing up the stairs.
"Camilla." When his wife didn't stop, Viserys tried again. "Camilla!"
She could hear Criston's heavy footsteps following after her as she threw open the doors to Viserys' chambers. She did not have to wait long until Criston was stepping through the doorway.
The Queen paced around the room, her mind trying to find a solution. "How can I stop this, Criston?"
"Perhaps you don't have to."
Camilla stopped her pacing, turning to face her friend. "What do you mean?"
"Betrothals occasionally fall through, Your Grace. Princess Maegella is only eight, many things could happen in the years before her marriage would take place."
A cough down the hall alerted Camilla and Criston of the King's nearby presence. Nodding to Criston in thanks, Camilla moved to pick up a blanket and waited by the King's favorite chair. She watched as Viserys entered the room, once again a cough clawed its way from his throat. The King's body shook with the force of the cough,
With a shake of his Viserys sat down in the chair Camilla stood by, not bothering to protest as she tucked the blanket in around him.
"The Hand, Your Grace." Ser Criston announced.
"The King is resting, Lyonel." Camilla attempted to dismiss the man.
"I will see him." Viserys interjected. Camilla glared at her husband's words as she walked to the back of the chair. Viserys leant forward at his wife's command, as Camilla fluffed his pillow. Viserys smiled at his friend as he leant back. "I am being endlessly fussed over, Lyonel. It's a wonder I can visit the privy alone."
Done with her fussing, Camilla stood straight, crossing her arms over her chest. "What might this errand be about, Lord Lyonel?"
"Your Grace, I feel... I have come to resign my position as Hand of the King." Lord Lyonel spoke. It was as if the Seven were shining down on Camilla blessing her with this opportunity to rid the Red Keep of the honorable Lyonel Strong. "The episode in the yard this morning. My son Harwin has disgraced himself and every fishwife in King's Landing will soon be telling the tale."
"Young Harwin's outburst was unfortunate, it's true. But he's been expelled from the City Watch. That seems punishment enough." Viserys dismissed.
"Forgive me, Your Grace, it is not."
At his Hand's words, Viserys pushed himself out of his seat and stepped closer to his friend. "You have served me faithfully for many years, ten as Hand. Your advice has been sage, unmarked by self interest which stands in contrast to all others."
"You speak kind words, but there is a shadow over my house and it grows ever darker. I can no longer serve you with integrity."
"What is this shadow? Name it if it casts such a gloom."
"Yes, we must have your reasoning in plain language." Camilla spoke, hoping Lord Lyonel would finally speak the truth on Rhaenyra's son's parentage. To force Viserys to confront the truth, if only to cause the man pain.
"I cannot."
"Then I cannot accept this."
"My dear husband-" Camilla tried to argue.
"I said no!" Viserys barked.
"If you insist, my King."
"I do. You will continue in your service to the crown."
"I would then ask leave to take my son from court and escort him back to the family seat at Harrenhal. He is my heir and will be lord of Harren's Castle one day. It is time he assumed his duties there."
"Do it."
With the door closing behind Lord Lyonel, Viserys turned to face his wife. Stumbling back to his seat, Viserys struggled to sit down on his own. Looking expectantly at Camilla, he asked. "Aren't you going to help me?"
Without a word, Camilla exited the room. The halls were dark, only torches mounted on the walls lighting the way. Camilla took deep breaths as she walked to her chambers, attempting to calm her anger. She had been too hopeful thinking she might rid herself of two of Rhaenyra's biggest supporters.
She paused in front of the doors to her apartments, remembering who she was meeting with. An idea creeped into her mind, a cruel and barbaric thought. One she would have been disgusted by in her youth, but now it caused the corners of her mouth to lift up.
The smell of food filled the room as well as the sound of clanking silverware as Camilla opened the door. Lord Larys and Lord Evander stood from their seats, though Camilla merely waved them off. Larys happily dropped himself back into his seat, though Evander remained standing. The large man pulled Camilla's seat out for her, pushing it back in once she sat.
"I see you have begun without me, Lord Larys." Camilla teased the weasel-like man as she took her seat. "Thank you, Lord Evander."
"It seemed a sin to let such a pie grow cold, Your Grace."
"You did wisely," Camilla smiled at the man. "Though you had no such worry about the wine, surely."
"Meat without wine is also a sin." The Lord Confessor spoke, pouring the Queen a glass of wine. "It has been my duty to tell you the happenings about the castle, but tonight you know and I do not. The King had an audience with my father."
"He attempted to resign his post." Camilla spoke around her cup of wine.
"I thought as much," Larys spoke around a bite of meat. "His honor's always been a millstone about his esteemed neck. Interesting you said attempted?"
"My lord husband refused to accept." Camilla answered.
"Then he fell short of confessing my brother's transgressions."
"With his eruption in the yard, Ser Harwin all but confessed the truth himself." Evander chuckled. "A man turned beast, I feel sorry for Criston's face."
"Truth has many flavors, Lord Evander." Larys responded, turning his attention back to the Queen. "Do you expect the King to doom his dear daughter to exile?"
"And if I did?"
Larys chuckled at his Queen's words. He admired her fierce spirit. "It's a willful blindness, I'm sure, the King. I mean, you'd surely suffer the same affliction, if it came to it."
"I would not." Camilla defended herself. She did not like the satisfied smile on Lord Larys' face. "Lord Lyonel is to escort Ser Harwin back to Harrenhal to watch over his seat whilst he continues to serve as Hand."
"But the Hand is compromised by the acts of his son. My father cannot give unbiased counsel to the King."
"It is now that I rue the absence of Otto Hightower. He was always kind to me," It wasn't untrue, Camilla thought, Otto Hightower had been the only one to warn Camilla of the dangers she faced. She believed it would be beneficial to have such a politically-minded man on her side. "If he were still Hand-"
"You cannot say, my Queen, that Otto Hightower would be impartial in this matter." Evander tried to argue.
"No, but with the right price he would be partial to me."
Larys stared at Camilla over the rim of his cup, thinking over her words. "What is it you wish, my Queen?"
"You know what I want, Lord Larys."
"As you wish, Your Grace."
The rest of the meal passed with ease. Lord Larys lived up to his title as Master of Whispers, telling Camilla of the happenings in her Kingdom she was not aware of. The Lord Confessor took his leave from the Queen's chambers with an uneasy smile spread across his lips, leaving Camilla and Evander alone.
Camilla moved to sit on the settee beside the table, her cup full of wine clasped tightly in her hand. Evander moved to kneel before the woman, slowly lifting her foot off of the floor and removing her slipper. His thumb dug into the arch of her foot, massaging the tired flesh.
"Are you sure of this?" He asked as he repeated the process with her other foot.
"Lord Lyonel cannot remain Hand, not if Daemion is to rule." Camilla hissed as Evander's thumb pressed into a sore muscle.
"And you trust Larys Strong?" Evander's hands grasped her ankles, slowly moving up her calves causing her dress to raise.
"I would not use the word trust when speaking of Larys, he is merely useful at the moment." One of Camilla's hands cupped the side of Evander's face as he reached her thighs. "What would Ser Rickard think of you on your knees before your Queen."
Evander's golden skin tinted pink at the mention of the King's Guard. He shook his head, pressing a chaste kiss to Camilla's knee. "He doesn't know I exist, Camilla."
"You can say that all you like, Evander, but I have eyes. I see how his eyes follow you." Camilla sighed as Evander's lips brushed against the delicate skin of her thigh.
Violet eyes fluttered closed, surrendering to his touch. With her eyes closed she could imagine another kneeling before her, another man's face between her thighs. She bit her lip to keep his name from spilling from her mouth.
AN: Their friends with benefits and Evander's a bi icon.
-ELE