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It wasn’t a surprise; it was an ambush.
While they all cheered her father’s remarriage, Rhaenyra’s world blurred. By day, Alicent was a leal friend and sister, accompanying her everywhere. Not an hour passed where she wasn’t whispering into Rhaenyra’s ear or feeding her a choice sweet from her slim fingers. Still, it was said the lady Alicent formed a bond with Viserys. Then, had she been visiting the king at night? Reading him bedtime stories; popping grapes into his mouth; kissing his mouth?
The thought of it turned Rhaenyra’s stomach.
Alicent—no, the lady Alicent, the future queen Alicent—could be found leaving the ladies vying for her favor. Ladies who had paid her little heed when she was Rhaenyra’s nervous shadow. With delicate steps she edged around the godswood that had been theirs. Rhaenyra hid from her field of vision behind a bush of red foreign flowers. She looked so innocent in blue. Alicent stepped closer, and then Rhaenyra stormed into sight.
She didn’t want to surprise her. She wanted an ambush.
“My sincerest congratulations to Your-fucking-Grace,” she spat. Alicent’s face was pale, her eyes like twin moons.
“Rhaenyra—”
“Tell me, when we were girls and you said you wanted to be a septa, was that a lie? Or did the naked ambition creep in later?”
“I—”
“You don’t expect me to believe it’s a love match?”
“Listen to me, Rhaenyra!” Alicent exclaimed. “Your father is a good and kind man.”
“Whose grief you took advantage of! For how long have you been swaying him?”
“I won’t lie to you,” she said quietly. “For months.”
“For months…” Rhaenyra repeated. Since her mother had been ripped away from the world. The cut was deeper than death.
“But know this: I never wished to be queen, never! Laena Velaryon would have been a fine choice, I said that as well, I—”
“You are no longer a child, Alicent! Laena is. You are a comely maiden, and you saw my father alone. For months. While he was weak. What did you expect would happen?” She nearly screamed it, burning a hole through her with her gaze.
Alicent looked on the verge of tears. “My father bade me to, I never—please, Rhaenyra, don’t let this ruin the affection we share! You are my—”
“You are a whore, and we have nothing to say to each other.”
With that, Rhaenyra strode past her into the Red Keep. Her dearest friend. Her viper. She did not wish to see her cry.
Years later, Alicent would think of her as a whore, and the irony would leave the bitterest taste.