The Blood of Old Valyria

X

~The Blood of Old Valyria ~
Chapter X

A scream. It was piercing and terrifying.

Rhaenyra shuddered in bed, but didn't open her eyes. Just a nightmare.

The scream was repeated.

No, she is not asleep. Someone is really screaming. Rhaenyra rubbed her eyes and rose up on her elbows, looking around the room. It was empty.

"Did you hear it too?" Laenor's voice came from the left.

The princess gasped, completely forgetting that she wasn't alone in the bedroom tonight. How could she have forgotten...

"Yes..." Targaryen replied sleepily, touching her feet to the cold floor. The time had long since passed midnight. The events of yesterday would have seemed like a dream to the princess if not for Laenor sitting on the other side of the bed. There was nothing between them. When they got to their room they settled into bed, too tired to do their marital duty.

Once again a scream was heard, but this time it turned to a howl. Rhaenyra shuddered. Who could scream like that? She got out of bed, threw her robe over her thin nightie, and left the bedroom. Laenor soon followed her out. The pair headed in the same direction as the frightened servants.

"Rhaenyra!" The princess met her father's gaze. Viserys was pale. Stepping closer, Rhaenyra discerned drops of sweat on the king's face.

"What has happened, father?"

Viserys brought a trembling hand to his face and ran it across his forehead.

"May the gods be merciful to Lord Daeron...," Rhaenyra heard somewhere nearby. From the open door came moans and inhuman howls.

"Lord Dayron is suffering from terrible pains.... The Maesters are trying to help him, but the milk of the poppy has no effect at all," Lionel Strong answered in Viserys' place. "They are not drawing encouraging conclusions. It looks as if Lord Daeron will be dead by morning."

Rhaenyra stared at the Hand in surprise and then entered the room that belonged to Dayraena's consort. She wished she hadn't. Her stomach twisted at the disgusting odor. The princess didn't know what it was and probably wouldn't have wanted to know if she hadn't seen Dayron's feet and the healers bent over him. The lord's limbs were covered in blisters and burns, blood pouring from the burst skin. That's what it smelled like. Burnt flesh. Rhaenyra couldn't stand it and turned away. How could Maesters look at such things? The girl felt as if her stomach couldn't take it.

She left the room with a rush.

"Where is Lady Dayraena?" people whispered. They had no idea what the couple's relationship really was. Rhaenyra looked worried. Indeed she did. Where is Dayraena?

The girl stood beside her father. She wrapped her arms around herself as the screaming sounded again. She felt eerie as the image of a man lying on a bloody bed appeared before her eyes.

Suddenly the lords and ladies fell silent, as if frightened. All heads turned in the same direction. It was Dayraena and Lucerius Gelarion heading towards them. Something in the look of Dayraena, her face, had changed. And only Rhaenyra could notice it. As Dayraena passed by... The eyes. Her eyes expressed genuine amusement.

Rayena tried to control herself, but she couldn't. She couldn't control her joy. The feeling was creeping out, preventing her from making a concerned face. Dayraena must give the crowd a beautiful performance. Show them that there was love between her and Dayron. Show that Dayraena treasured their marriage.