What happens when Rhaenyra and Daemon's night in the brothel turned out to be more than what the princess admitted to? What happens when a child is conceived that night? What happens when that child is a girl, born the perfect image of a Targaryen p...
***TW for what can technically be considered depression and self-destructive behaviors. This chapter is relatively short because I don't want to wallow in the negativity for too long. My own mental-health can't handle it.***
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In the week that followed, Visaera hid herself away from her family, both sides of her family, from her mother's questioning looks and the guilt that had been mounting until she felt she was going to explode.
When she wasn't required to attend a meal, she was hiding in alcoves and exploring passageways, determined to be alone. Her last conversation with Aemond had been eating at her and she hadn't spoken a word to him since their flight on Vhagar.
Without Aegon to run to, Visaera bore the weight of her sleepless nights alone, taking a toll on her both physically and mentally. Each morning, Alarya reprimanded her, informing her that her corsets were already laced as tightly as they could be and she needed to eat more. Visaera hardly heard her.
"Vis?" Jacaerys startled her and she glanced up from the book she had been reading, silently cursing. Tucked in an alcove, half-hidden by the statue of the Mother, she assumed no one would find her.
"Jace," she acknowledged, not bothering to look up from the page.
"Mother's worried about you," he informed her.
"Mm, Mother's always worried about me..." she replied.
"Nobody has seen you in days, Vis. Even Baela and Rhaena are worried." She sighed and marked her page before scrubbing her eyes with her hands. They were stinging and irritated from the vision she had experienced nearly three days before.
With every premonition, the effects seemed to worsen. Her mother's screams haunted her; she hadn't bothered with breakfast for two days because she couldn't bear to look at Rhaenyra's face. "We're having tea and cakes in the garden; the girls would like you to come."
Eventually, she nodded and hoisted herself up from the floor. Jace didn't say anything, but he didn't need to. The look in his wide, brown eyes was enough to remind her that she looked as horrid as she felt.
"Can we invite Helaena?" she asked, knowing her aunt's presence would offer her comfort. After all, who but Helaena would understand how she had been feeling?
"Of course," Jace offered.
"I will get her!" Joffrey yelled excitedly, before bolting down the corridor.
"You haven't been sleeping..." It was not a question, but Visaera shook her head in response.
"What is it?" he asked, catching her by the arm and making her look at him. "If it's the betrothal, we can always—"
"Are you forgetting that the betrothal was my choice, Jacaerys?" she replied, "It's not that..."
"Visaera, dear how—" The Queen rounded the corner but her question died on her lips as she took in the sight of her future daughter-in-law. "Are you well?" As the Queen pressed the back of her hand to Visaera's forehead, she saw a flicker of genuine concern in Alicent's eyes. The notion startled her and she instinctively took a step back, clinging to her brother.
