Suddenly, at that moment, a cautious and regular knock came at the door.
"Prince, Princess." Talya's voice came from beyond the door. "Breakfast is ready. Also... three of the four dragon eggs on Dragonstone hatched yesterday."
Aemond's eye lit up instantly.
"Understood," he called out. "Have the dragonkeepers tend to them well. I will see them personally this afternoon."
"Yes, Your Grace."
Helaena released him and watched as he rose from the bed and walked toward the bath behind the screen. She sat on the edge of the bed and looked at his bare back.
"Aemond," she said suddenly.
"Hmm?" He leaned his head out from behind the screen, water droplets streaming down his silver hair.
Helaena hesitated. "Could you come back early tonight? I thought... I would like to hear you read. Just like when we were children."
Aemond's eye softened. "The Fall of Valyria? Or The Origins of Dragons?"
"The Origins of Dragons." Helaena smiled, and in that smile was a maiden's innocence. "I love hearing you read those passages in High Valyrian. Your pronunciation is better than the maester's."
"It is our tongue," Aemond said, turning back into the bath, the sound of water splashing. "Tonight, I promise."
Helaena sat on the edge of the bed, listening to the sound of water and the city noise gradually rising beyond the window. Her hand unconsciously traced the Targaryen sigil embroidered on the sheets—the three-headed dragon, breathing flame and intertwined.
Blood and fire—that was the fate of the one she loved. And all she could do was preserve for him a measure of peace within that fate.
---
In the dining chamber, the morning sun fell full upon the long table.
Simple fare lay upon the table: golden white bread, amber honey, white cheese, fried bacon and eggs. There was also a pot of tea—not the common herbal infusions of the Seven Kingdoms, but a treasure from the far east of the eastern continent, its leaves unfurling in the hot water, releasing a subtle fragrance. It had been a gift from House Hightower, and one of Aemond's few indulgences.
Helaena had changed into a lilac gown, with tiny seed pearls embroidered in silver thread at the cuffs and neckline—both dignified and feminine. Her silver-gold hair had been carefully braided by her handmaiden into a married woman's style and secured with a silver net.
She sat at one end of the long table and watched as Aemond entered.
He was washed and dressed. His black doublet fit closely, covered with light leather armor and reinforced with steel plates at the left shoulder. His silver hair was pulled back at the nape of his neck, revealing the sharp planes of his face and that keen violet eye.
"You wear leather armor to breakfast?" Helaena asked, amusement in her eyes.
"Anything can happen at any hour," Aemond said, seating himself opposite, taking a slice of toast and spreading it with butter and honey. "Besides, if you grow accustomed to it, it no longer feels cumbersome when you truly need it."
As he spoke, Talya entered with two handmaidens, pouring tea and arranging the dishes. Talya moved carefully, but her gaze swept the room from time to time, maintaining proper vigilance.
"Talya," Aemond said, biting into his toast. "I hear you are seeing Will."
Talya's hand trembled slightly, the teapot nearly touching the rim of the cup.
"Yes... Yes, Your Grace." She lowered her head, her ears reddening.
"Good." Aemond's tone was matter-of-fact, but a rare gentle smile flickered in his eye. "When will you marry? Just say the word—I am never sparing with rewards. You deserve the best."
Talya's face reddened further, nearly burning. "Your Grace jests," she whispered, hastily withdrawing to the side, but the corners of her lips could not help but lift.
Helaena watched this scene and could not help but laugh.
"You are teasing her again," she gently admonished, but her eyes were full of smiles.
"She has been by your side for three years and is loyal to you," Aemond said, taking a sip of tea. "I care about her happiness—that is only right. And that fellow Will... though he came from a poor family, he has wit and can accomplish things. He deserves Talya."
"Then do you care about the happiness of your other men—Hal and Carter?" Helaena asked, cutting a small piece of cheese and placing it on her bread.
"Of course," Aemond said, his tone turning pragmatic. "That is why I have given them command of the army and Moonspire. Power, responsibility, and a future—these are the foundations of happiness for men. As for matters of the heart..." He paused, smiling sardonically. "With the power they now hold, the lords of the realm will be falling over themselves to wed their daughters to them."
He set down his cup and looked at Helaena.
"Hope is the best motivator. These former vagrants, sons of smiths and thieves, can now become lords, possessing land and authority. They are ambitious—they will strive to rise, will work harder and be more loyal than any hereditary noble."
He continued lightly, "Because if they lose my trust, they have nothing. I can give at any time, and I can take away at any time. That is the strongest bond."
Helaena shook her head but said nothing more. She knew Aemond's way of thinking—pragmatic, direct, results-oriented.
When breakfast was nearly finished, Aemond wiped his mouth and rose. He came to Helaena and did not leave immediately, but bent to cup her face and kiss her lightly on the forehead.
"This evening," he said.
"This evening," Helaena replied softly.
Aemond turned and left, his footsteps echoing down the stone corridor—firm and swift.
Helaena stood in a daze, her hand touching the spot on her forehead where he had kissed her, where his warmth and breath still lingered.
At that moment, Talya approached and gently reminded her, "Princess, it is time to go to Queen Alicent. This morning we attend the sept to pray to the Seven—the Queen specifically requested it."
Helaena nodded, composed herself, and followed Talya from the dining chamber.
On the walls of the corridor hung portraits of Targaryen kings—from Aegon the Conqueror to the present Viserys—these silver-haired, violet-eyed monarchs gazing down, their expressions variously majestic, thoughtful, or mad. They had witnessed the rise and glory of House Targaryen in Westeros, and its internal conflicts as well.
Passing the portrait of Jaehaerys I, Helaena unconsciously paused.
The wise king, known as "the Conciliator," had seen the Seven Kingdoms enjoy years of relative peace during his long reign. He had ridden Vermithor and flown with his sister-wife Alysanne, celebrated by bards as the epitome of love and rule. But Helaena, as a Targaryen, naturally knew the hidden history of former kings. She knew how lonely Jaehaerys had been in his final years, how painful it was to watch his children and wife die before his eyes. She also knew how helpless he felt when, after the Great Council, he had to pass the throne to a grandson he did not fully approve.
"Talya," Helaena asked suddenly, her voice slightly distant. "Do you think King Jaehaerys was happy?"
Talya was momentarily stunned, then answered carefully, "He was a great king, Princess. The histories will always remember his name."
"Greatness, but not happiness," Helaena said quietly, as if speaking to herself.
She said nothing more, but a flicker of fear passed through her eyes. It was all so similar, just like in her dreams. Viserys and Jaehaerys, Aegon and Aemond, Rhaenyra and Daemon... History seemed to repeat itself.
She turned to Talya. "Sometimes I think it must be a curse. Some things are always so alike, generation after generation, without end."
Talya did not know how to answer. She knew Helaena had grown sentimental again. As the close handmaiden beside her, after so many years of service, she naturally knew her mistress. She was merely a servant who diligently protected Helaena, and though intelligent, she never pondered too deeply. She only knew that in this court, humble folk who thought too much often did not live long. She simply needed to do what she must.
Helaena sighed and shook her head. "Forgive me, I should not have asked." She smiled reluctantly. "Come, Mother is waiting."