ULF
The small council stared at me like I'd risen from the dead.
Maybe I had.
"You're the only dragonrider who returned." Otto's voice carried calculation beneath the shock. "Tell us everything."
I sat in the witness chair—battered, bandaged, running on nothing but willpower. Three days since God's Eye. Three days of nightmares and questions and Helaena's gentle hands keeping me together.
"Hugh attacked me first."
"Attacked you?" Criston Cole leaned forward. "Another Green rider?"
"He'd been planning treason for weeks. Wanted to kill both princes, seize power with the dragons." I met their eyes. "I stopped him."
"By killing him?"
"By surviving him. He fell from Vermithor during our combat. The dragon went berserk, attacked everything. By the time I subdued him, the princes had already—"
I stopped.
Falling. Locked together. Swords flashing.
"Had already killed each other." Otto finished. "As you reported."
"Yes."
Silence.
"And Vermithor?"
"Injured. Confused. He flew here—the dragonkeepers say he's been circling, calling for Hugh." I shook my head. "A riderless dragon is dangerous. Someone needs to claim him soon or he'll need to be put down."
"We'll discuss that later." Otto turned to Orwyle. "The king?"
The Grand Maester's face was grave.
"Infection has spread. The fever won't break. Days, perhaps. A week at most."
Aegon dying. Aemond dead. No one left to lead.
"The realm needs guidance," Otto continued. "A regent, until Prince Jaehaerys comes of age."
"The boy is six," Cole said. "We'd need regency for years."
"Then we'll have regency for years." Otto's eyes swept the table. "I propose a council of regents. Myself, the Lord Commander, the Grand Maester—"
"And the queen."
Everyone turned.
Helaena stood in the doorway. I hadn't heard her enter.
"I am Aegon's wife. Mother to his heirs. If there's to be regency, I will be part of it."
Otto recovered quickly. "Of course, Your Grace. No one would suggest otherwise."
Liar. You'd have excluded her entirely if you could.
She took her seat at the table. Her hand found mine beneath the wood—quick squeeze, then gone.
Four months pregnant. No one knows. No one can know.
"The war continues," she said. "What forces do we have?"
The council shifted into planning mode.
I sat and listened and tried not to think about falling bodies and burning water.
THAT NIGHT
Helaena's chambers. Candlelight.
She sat on the bed, hand pressed to her stomach.
"It's getting worse."
"What is?"
"The bleeding. The pain." Her voice was steady, but I could hear the fear beneath. "Orwyle says the pregnancy is risky. The child might not—might not survive to term."
No.
I crossed to her. Knelt at her feet.
"What can we do?"
"Rest. Reduce stress." A bitter laugh. "Easy, in the middle of a war with my husband dying and assassins and—"
"I'll handle the war. I'll handle everything."
"You can't—"
"I can. I will." I took her hands. "You focus on our child. On getting healthy. Everything else falls to me."
"Ulf—"
"I survived God's Eye. I killed Hugh Hammer. I watched two princes die." I pressed my forehead to her stomach. "I didn't do all that to lose our baby now."
She stroked my hair.
"I dreamed about her."
"Her?"
"A girl. Dark eyes, silver hair. Standing in ruins, building something new." Her voice caught. "But the path is fire. Always fire."
"Then we walk through fire. We've done it before."
She pulled me up onto the bed. Into her arms.
"I'm scared."
"So am I."
"I don't want to lose her."
"You won't. I promise."
Another promise. Another thing I can't guarantee.
But I'll die trying to keep it.
That night, I dreamed of God's Eye.
Hugh falling. Aemond and Daemon locked together. Water swallowing everything.
And through it all, a ribbon of silver hair floating on dark waves.
I woke gasping.
Helaena was there. Soothing. Steady.
"Just dreams," she whispered. "Just dreams."
Yours are never just dreams.
But I don't say it.
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