Chapter Text
A New Rumor (Thoughts of a Handmaid)
A young serving girl, carrying a basket of clean linens, hurried down the corridor.
She kept her head down, as she had been taught. Don't look, don't listen, don't exist. But it was impossible not to notice when the door to Prince Aegon's Room banged open and the prince Jacaerys stormed out, visibly distraught. His hair was a mess, his tunic disheveled, and his face was flushed, his eyes wide with a mixture of panic and something else. He didn't even see her, rushing past her like a gale on his way to his own chambers.
The servant, curious, slowed her pace, her gaze drawn to the open door from which he had emerged...
Prince Aegon. There he was. Naked. Standing in the middle of the room, watching her. The servant's heart plummeted. She knew the stories, the tears of other girls. She backed away, a small sound of fear escaping her throat, expecting to be next, expecting to be dragged inside.
Aegon smiled, but it wasn't the predatory smile she expected. It was a lazy, satisfied smile. He saw her fear and shook his head.
"No, don't even think about it," he said, his voice hoarse. He ran a hand over his own chest, admiring the scratches there. "This hot body has an owner now." He glanced in the direction Jace had fled, his smile widening. "I've already got my eye on someone."
And with that, he slammed the door in her face. The servant stood in the corridor, trembling, more confused than frightened.
The rumor she would take to the kitchens that afternoon would be the strangest of all.
Meanwhile, in one of the council rooms, Luke was in a meeting about new strategies for the Velaryon fleet. He spoke with more confidence now, but his mother, Rhaenyra, barely heard the words.
She watched him, saw the shadow in his eyes, the way he flinched when someone got too close. And she was planning her next move. As soon as the meeting was over, she would take him to her chambers, ask everyone to leave, and talk to him. As mother and son. She needed to find out the truth, to get close, to break whatever it was that Aemond was building around him.
Her plan was interrupted in the most abrupt and terrible way possible.
The doors to the room burst open violently. Alicent stood there, her face bathed in tears, her queenly composure completely undone.
She didn't look at the guards, nor the councilors. She ran, stumbling, toward Rhaenyra.
"Rhaenyra!" she sobbed, the sound tearing at the hearts of everyone in the room.
Luke and Rhaenyra stood up at the same time. Alicent clung to Rhaenyra's arms, seeking support. "A servant... she just came back from his room... from Viserys's room," Alicent mumbled, the words tumbling out in her grief. "He... he's gone, Rhaenyra. Y-your father... he's dead."
The world seemed to stop. Rhaenyra felt the floor disappear from under her feet, a wave of dizziness hitting her.
Pregnant, the shock was a physical blow. She staggered, but was immediately supported, one of Luke's arms around her, and the other, Alicent's.
After a moment, Rhaenyra recovered, the pain on her face solidifying into a steely determination. "Take me to him," she said, her voice falsely firm. "I need to see my father."
The news spread through the castle not like an alarm, but like a fog of sorrow. The mood became melancholic, heavy with a loss.
The kind King Viserys, the Peacemaker, was dead. But his death was not the spark of war that so many had feared. He had passed in peace, in his sleep, after weeks of seeing his family more united than ever.
He died happy, believing he had fulfilled his greatest wish: to restore peace and love in his house.
To some extent, he had succeeded. For now, in the Red Keep, there were no Greens or Blacks.
There was only a family, mourning their king, their father, their brother, their grandfather and friend.