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THAT NIGHT HAD BEEN THE LAST TIME she had seen Aemond for many, many years.
What transpired after he claimed Vhagar could only be described as full blown chaos. As soon as Aemond and Naerys set foot in the castle, smiling and chatting about riding Vhagar together the following day, they were intercepted by Jacaerys, Lucerys, Baela and Rhaena. Harsh offenses were traded amongst them, the word 'bastards' being, as per usual, Aemond's favorite insult to use against his nephews. Naerys was accused of being an accomplice to Aemond and a traitor to the Velaryons. This was to be expected, but it hurt her no less to hear Rhaena saying it with unbridled rage. Her denial to such complaints earned her a slap across the face, to which she responded with a punch. Thus began the brawl between the children.
In the midst of trying to stop her brothers from getting hurt, or Aemond from harming her cousins, or them from beating Aemond into a pulp, she ended up taking a heavy punch, and this one certainly broke her nose. Alas, her wound was not the worst by far, for Aemond lost his left eye at the hands of Lucerys when he brought a knife to the fight. His shrill cry made them all come to a halt. Only Naerys thought to rush to his aid.
He tried very hard to refuse her help. He didn't want her to see his face all mangled up, but she was too stubborn to be stopped. There wasn't much she could do to assist him, but at least she sat down by his side and held his free hand until the knights of the Kingsguard arrived and took the children to the maesters to have their wounds taken care of. Two broken noses, a maimed eye and plenty of cuts and bruises was what they had to show to King Viserys.
To say that he was furious would be a baffling understatement. The man was practically fuming.
"How could you allow such a thing to happen?" Viserys demanded, the veins of his neck very prominent due to the strain of screaming at them. Everyone remained silent. "I will have answers!"
Ser Harrold Westerling came forward. "The princes were supposed to be abed, My King."
"Who had the watch?" asked Viserys, still fuming.
Ser Criston Cole thought it would be wise to add his own input to the conversation. "The young prince was attacked by his own cousins, Your Grace."
"You swore oaths to protect and defend my blood!"
"I am very sorry, Your Grace," Ser Westerling apologized, bowing his head in shame.
"The Kingsguard has never had to defend princes from princes, Your Grace," Cole replied stupidly.
"That is no answer!"
Queen Alicent shuddered at her husband's tone and turned her concerned gaze towards the maester who was tending to her young boy's injuries. "It will heal, will it not, maester?"
"The flesh will heal," he hesitated to respond. "But the prince's eye is lost, Your Grace."
Naerys felt her heart sink helplessly upon hearing those news. Alicent glanced over at the bastard girl, her lower lip quivering. She could only guess how mortified she looked. It must have been very, because the Queen's frown grew even deeper.
