As ward of the Queen, Camilla Tully was raised alongside the Princess, Rhaenyra, and the Hand's daughter, Alicent. The three were rarely seen apart. That is until the queen died and Alicent married the Widower King.
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The sun rose over King's landing as life began to stir within the city. Prince Daemon awoke in a strange room to the sound of pots clanging. The stone walls were covered in mildew and grime and straw was thrown across the floor. The blankets on the straw mattress were rough and scratchy against the Prince's skin.
"Am I your prisoner?" Daemon spoke, alerting the other person in the room that he was awake.
Mysaria, Daemon's former paramour, stood at a table mixing something in a bowl. "As I was once yours?" Her accent filled the room reminding Daemon of their time spent at Dragonstone.
A bell tolled in the distance seven times, as Mysaria rounded the bed Daemon still laid on, a silver goblet dangling from her fingertips.
"I'm your protector, lucky for you." The former whore knelt down, pressing the goblet into Daemon's hand. "This will cut the fog."
Daemon let the goblet slip from his grasp, the contents spilling onto the floor. "I don't need protection from a common whore."
"I am not so common."
"A not so common whore then."
"I've left that life behind. I learned that skin trade could only take me so far in this life." A young boy entered the room, meeting Mysaria at the foot of Daemon's bed and handing the woman a handful of coins. Mysaria smiled at the boy as he left the room and she began counting the money.
"You never were one to stay idle."
"Hard lessons are not welcomed but suffered as I'm sure your Lady Tully will soon learn." Mysaria looked down at her former lover with a sense of pity before turning to the stairs leading out of the room.
"Mysar-" Daemon attempted to call out.
"You can pay for the room on your way out."
Guilty flooded Daemon's senses at his actions from the night prior. Camilla had already forgiven him once, surely she would not be so stupid to do so again.
...
Alicent was nervous as she waited for her old friend under the Weirwood tree. The same tree that Rhaenyra, Camilla and her had sat under years ago, how those days felt so far from her touch. And Camilla. Poor Camilla. Her heart had already been broken once and now Rhaenyra had betrayed her in the worst way possible. Alicent turned from the tree to face Rhaenyra at the sound of her footsteps.
"What happened last night?" Alicent asked, getting straight to the point. Her fingers picked at the skin of her thumb, hoping to alleviate her anxieties.
"What do you mean?" The smile on Rhaenyra's face fell, at Alicent's tone.
"My father has made worrying allegations about you. Were you with your uncle?"
