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The sounds of Rhaenys' wails still echoed in Corlys' head, even hours later.
He had never seen his wife in such a state. The princess' immaculately-kept mask of calm had been torn asunder by grief, leaving her screaming on her knees aboard the Sea Snake. There was nothing he could do, no solace he could offer other than to hold her in his arms as she wept for her father.
Eventually, when Rhaenys' tears had exhausted completely, Corlys gathered her up and helped her to stand. She clung to his chest, her breathing still wracked by sobs, as Aemon's body was moved offboard. Corlys looked to Lady Jocelyn, her eyes red with bitter tears. She gazed back forlornly, lingering on her daughter, before nodding for them to go.
Corlys all but carried his wife to their rooms in the Red Keep. She did not speak, merely clutched his hand as he guided her. The Lord of the Tides noted with fear just how gaunt his Lady had become since he'd last seen her. Gone was his joyous and fiery, albeit concerned, wife wishing him good fortune and a safe return from war – desolation had stolen her from him.
The maesters brought milk of the poppy; enough to sedate, but not harm the child growing within her belly. Only when Rhaenys finally succumbed to sleep, curled against his side, did Corlys let his own tears fall.
A soft knock at the door roused him from dreamless dozing. Corlys gently rose to answer it, thankful that Rhaenys still slept undisturbed.
A maester greeted him, his face solemn. "Welcome home, Lord Corlys," he whispered quietly. He motioned an arm out into the hallway. "If I might have a word?"
Corlys obliged. As the door shut behind them, the maester continued, voice lowered. "It is a delicate matter, my lord. I hesitated to speak on it, but it needs mentioning. The princess – we worry for her health and that of the babe's. Ever since Prince Aemon's passing, she has been," he searched for the words, "listless… distraught. Such undue stress is not good for the child, nor mother."
Corlys closed his eyes and sighed heavily. The report did not surprise him, but it was difficult to hear all the same. "What would you have me do?"
"She is in a delicate state. Keep her calm. Soothed. Try to avoid anything which could cause… agitation."
"You do realize that my wife is a Targaryen?" Corlys said with half amusement. "That task is easier said than done."
The maester nodded, seemingly unperturbed by the comment. "Do not hesitate if you require assistance, my lord." He bowed and turned, leaving Corlys alone with his thoughts.
Corlys re-entered their rooms, shocked to find Rhaenys awake, propped up against a mountain of pillows.
"Have the maesters lectured you on my health?" she asked wearily, by way of greeting.
Corlys couldn't lie to her. "Yes," he admitted, standing awkwardly by the door. "They're concerned, Rhaenys."
That earned him a small, tired scoff. Rhaenys held her rounded stomach protectively. "I lost my father over a fortnight ago, Corlys. I do not intend to lose this child." She paused for a moment, lost in thought, smiling faintly before saying, "I felt him move yesterday."
Corlys' eyes widened. "You did?"
Rhaenys nodded, her tired smile growing brighter. "He's quickened, Corlys."
He stared with wonder at the roundness of her belly, conflicted with both pride and sadness that he had missed it swell, if only for a few weeks' time.
Rhaenys, as though sensing his melancholy, moved to stand. "Come here, husband," she instructed gently.
Corlys hesitated for a moment, and Rhaenys stepped towards him to close the distance. She took his hand in hers and placed it on her stomach. "I won't break," she reassured him.
As Corlys slowly stroked his thumb across the slope of her belly, he couldn't help but smile. Rhaenys looked up at him, touching his face tenderly with her free hand. "He missed his papa," she said softly, her eyes watering. "We both did."
Corlys kissed her then, for the first time in weeks. It was soft and sweet, nothing like the rough, desperate kisses he'd left her with. After a moment, he pressed his forehead to hers, a hand still on her belly.
Rhaenys swallowed thickly. "He was so happy, Corlys," she whispered, barely able to get the words out. "... to have a grandchild."
Corlys closed his eyes in remembrance. They'd told Aemon just before departing for Tarth; something to look forward to upon their return. "We'll make him proud," he whispered back, squeezing her hand. She nodded solemnly in reply.
Corlys moved to kneel before her then, his head coming to rest on her stomach. He snaked a hand up under her shift, reveling in the feel of her skin beneath his fingers. "Our boy," he whispered with adoration.
Rhaenys sniffled at the sentiment, carding her fingers through her husband's hair. "Our babe will be his legacy."