The Last of a Dynasty

Three: Lady, Queen, King

Jaehaera Targaryen had no friends in the Red Keep. Or anywhere else, truly.
Such a fact was widely known for, as much as the ladies of the court had tried, none had been able to surpass the barrier of apathy that had seemingly accompanied the young queen since childhood. To her, though, it did not matter. She preferred her silence and quiet, much more so when opposed to the chatter of people who thought her stupid.
For those girls did not wish to be her friends. Most of them mocked her behind her back just as everyone else did. Only, they desired her support for their own advancement. And yet she still had ladies in waiting, just as any royal consort should. They were useful for some things.
Still, when a knock came upon her door, Jaehaera flinched at the sudden sound.

As soon as she managed to compose herself enough and called the visitor in, a pretty chestnut-haired girl entered the room. One of her ladies in waiting, precisely. She looked like she was there for something, and it made her nervous enough to stutter when she acknowledged her.
"L-lady M-Myrielle."

"Your Grace." The maiden curtsied, a sweet smile plastered on her plump lips. "I have brought you dinner. The king supposed you wouldn't be too inclined to consume your meal in the main hall."

She never was. Aegon knew it well and, if she'd been capable of it, perhaps she would have smiled at the fact that he cared enough to accommodate her.
Only then she noticed the lady bore a tray of silver with a bowl of soup, a platter of meat and a cup of steaming liquid upon it.
A tea. She liked tea, the feeling of the infusion warming her throat as it went down. It calmed her.
She looked at Myrielle. "P-put it on the t-table."

The Peake girl nodded her head as she carried the tray to the place the queen had indicated.

Jaehaera stayed on the threshold, her back to the lady, not wishing to speak to her. The older girl was tall, her brown eyes lively, and the dark blue dress she wore hugged her body in a perfect way. She spoke without flaw, never nervous or uncertain. In front of her, and everyone at court who like her fit in perfectly, the young queen felt powerless despite her position.
From her place at the entrance she immediately noticed when Aegon arrived, dressed—as always—fully in black.

His deep purple eyes fixed upon hers as soon as their gazes met.
"Jaehaera." He appeared almost surprised to find her in front of him, despite the fact that those were her rooms, but soon enough he straightened his shoulders and spoke.
"I... uhm... I wondered..." He played with the rings adorning his fingers. "May I join you? For dinner?"

In response she shifted aside to let him pass and started to follow him, just as Myrielle turned from the table and noticed them. "Your Grace!"
Her sudden squeal made Jaehaera jump.
Aegon turned toward her in that exact same moment. When their eyes locked, he beckoned her to his side with a tilt of his head.
"Lady Myrielle," he acknowledged the other girl, then, all while extending his right arm at his side and opening his hand for his wife to take. A silent offer, one that she accepted without hesitation. She did not know why but, where touch usually bothered her, Aegon's was calming, like being immersed in a pool of hot water.

Myrielle curtsied.

The chestnut-haired maiden was slightly older than her, perhaps around her nineteenth or twentieth year, but not married yet. Jaehaera had never thought much on it. She hadn't cared to ask her why.
As Myrielle curtsied to the king, all sweet smile and rosy cheeks, however, she felt a discomfort she had never experienced before.
The Peake girl looked pretty, healthy, happy. She smiled brightly for Aegon.
Jaehaera wondered if he might smile back at that, like all boys smiled when a comely girl gave them attention. She wished she could be healthy and happy, too.

But Aegon did not return the smile.
He stood rather still, stiff, his lips pressed into a thin line.
"You should not be so loud," he instead told Myrielle, his voice flat. "It bothers us."