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THIRTY —— FEAR THE COLOR GOLD
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110 AC, KING'S LANDING.
It takes just over one and a half months for the crown to prepare all the celebrations of the wedding between Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen and Laenor Targaryen, son of Lord Corlys Velaryon and Princess Rhaenys Targaryen— the Sea Snake and the Queen Who Never Was— and by the time Morrigan is reading herself for the welcoming feast, her stomach, while only a relatively small bump to what it will grow in a few months more time, is still clearly showing her progress. Everyone in the Red Keep knows the wife of the Lord Commander of the gold cloaks is carrying his second child. By now, she knows that her family back at home will have long known it too, after she'd sent a raven in the last days of the previous year.
Morrigan takes in a shallow breath and finds her fingertips trembling just the smallest amount. Only three weeks ago, Rodrik had taken a short leave to visit his family at home— and ever since the day he'd departed, she misses him like nothing else. For the first time in nearly six years, she is without him and she feels like a ship lost at sea, without direction or course or cannons, ready to be torn apart by the enemy.
She forces herself to exhale again, ignoring the way her lungs feel like they're refusing to work properly and turns back to the gown she'd picked out for tonight's celebrations. It's silver and blue and for a split moment, she sees a grotesque ghost of her wedding dress in front of her.
It's a pretty dress— and Morrigan hates it even more for that. It's the Tully colors and pretty and modest. It's everything she should be.
Morrigan wants to tear it apart, wants to set it on fire and watch it go up in flames until there is nothing left of it but ashes.
She takes in another breathe, blowing it out slowly, before she looks away from the dress, trying to force her muscles to move. If she doesn't, she'll be late soon— by now, guests will have started to arrive slowly and she knows that she''ll soon meet up with Edmyn and his siblings— Brandon and Celia— and if she does not start to ready herself now, she will be late for their joint entrance at the feast.
