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As expected, Rhaella didn't come out on the third day either. Wylis didn't react to that and spent the day as usual. Standing guard, bored, sleepy. When finally the night approached, his final night there, he ate a hearty meal.
Then, he retired to his tiny room. He locked it for good and then packed his items. He didn't have many; his greatsword was broken, so he only had a simple short sword in his possession.
Aerys will likely send men after me. I still got no clue what the fuck he planned for me.
Done with everything, he wrote on a parchment once again. A small, but threatening note for the Queen.
[Please respond, Your Grace. Or I will come to you myself.]
Wooosh!
With a small pebble, he sent the crumpled paper up. She probably thought he was blowing into that pipe to push the message up.
Shhh~
"Finally!"
He got a response really fast.
[No! You must not! Someone could be watching the door.]
"Oh? So she's not against it?"
With that indirect confirmation, Wylis made up his mind to climb up. Instead of the wall with the pipe, he stood up on his bed and easily touched the stone ceiling.
Hmm… It's empty above.
Ensuring he wasn't going to emerge underneath a bed or some other furniture, he used Earthbending. He loosened a few large blocks of stone and then started pushing them up one by one.
As Rhaella's door was locked from the outside, and he had the key, he wasn't scared of finding someone else inside. But he still kept it quiet.
One stone, then two large stones, and finally the third. With that, he had enough space. He jumped up, hooked his hands above the edge, and pulled his body up with ease.
Tight squeeze, but enough for him. It was his first time inside the Queen's bedchamber, so he looked around with his head first. The Queen wasn't anywhere.
Smells… like flowers?
There were candles around the large bedchamber, divided into parts for sitting, study, and bed. There was carpet around the floor, but not where he had emerged. And to his surprise, he had emerged very close to the bed.
Looking in the direction of where the pipe was, he realized it was right beside Rhaella's bed.
At last, he pulled himself up for good and fully stood up, tall, hulking. He glanced towards the large bed and sure enough, the Queen was lying there, covered by a quilt, turned sideways, her ashen hair loosely tied like usual in a braid. Even the jewelry wasn't removed, as if she had planned to go out.
Did she avoid going out because I was outside? Her face looks unharmed.
She was looking at the communication pipe beside her bed. Underneath its opening was a small table, where his responses likely fell.
Still hasn't noticed me?
In her defense, the fire in the hearth was sizzling loudly.
"Didn't say I'd use the doors to come to you, Your Grace."
"Hm?!" Rhaella jolted in shock and sat up on the bed, frightened, her eyes wide in fear. "Wylis? H-How?"
"..."
But Wylis was more stunned than her, his eyes not locked on her face but below. She was nude underneath that quilt, and at the moment, the quilt had fallen over her lap. Her entire bust lay bare before him, and the more he looked, the more it enraged him than aroused him.
There were bruises, dark blue, on her shoulders. One of her full, round breasts with just a hint of sag had… a bite mark on one side. He could see it was healing now. It must have been painful, and far deeper three days ago.
But then he noticed her forearm, and there were deep, long claw marks, as if a beast had attacked her. He couldn't see anything below, but he knew there was more.
"No!" Rhaella woke up from the shock and quickly covered her nude chest with the quilt again. "Y-You shouldn't be here, Ser Wylis."
Wylis spoke no words. His eyes hauntingly wide, he moved closer to the bed and got on top from the footside, boots knocked away. His gaze never blinked, focused entirely on her face as his knees kept shifting closer and closer towards the Queen.
It was treason. It was a crime worth beheading. But in his eyes, there was no Queen. Just a woman, hurt, left alone to suffer.
"S-Ser… Wylis…"
Rhaella shifted backward until her naked back was pressed hard against the cold headboard. She pulled her knees up, seeing Wylis' massive frame come closer and loom over her, casting a shadow on her.
Yet, not a single thought in her mind told her to scream or run away. The opposite, she felt her heart pound, thrash within her chest. Her mouth opened to speak, but nothing came out. She was lost, lost in his intense blue eyes, enchanted by them.
"Rhaella."
She felt that. The change in his tone. No longer calling her Queen or Your Grace. It felt right and respectful. Not out of her title, her status, but just his true feeling of gentleness.
"Mm… Ser…"
She felt him so close. Stopped only when his knees were planted where her feet were underneath the quilt. Since she had pulled her knees flat against her chest, he was close, and so big. She had to look up to face him.
And then, Rhaella felt it. He reached for her with his masculine, large, wide palm. They looked so rough, but then that warm hand gently flattened around the side of her face, near her jaw, his thumb on her chin, his fingers digging back around under her ear, into her silvery locks.
It felt electrifying when he tilted her face further up for direct eye contact. Then his other hand softly tucked away the locks of hair falling over her face.
"Rhaella," Wylis whispered to her, a voice filled with absoluteness. Every word from his mouth was genuine. "Say it once… Just say it and I will… kill him."
Rhaella's eyes widened in shock. But looking into his deep blue gaze, she found no lies. She found absolute confidence. And she hated herself because she felt tempted. He felt like a god at that moment. A god offering her a way out.
"Not a soul will know how he met his end, Rhaella. And none will ever know who did it."
There was silence. Her heart palpitated, and her breath picked up. The warmth of his hand melted her. Those mighty walls hiding her emotions crumbled with his touch. Tears… fell from her eyes.
And he… that massive, beastly man with the voice of a charmer, and body carved by gods, never let those tears mark her cheeks. His thumb brushed them aside, as if comforting her without a word spoken.
"Ser Wylis… I…"
His thumb gently tapped on her soft lips, halting her words.
"Just Wylis… No 'Ser,' no this or that."
Her eyes teared up even more. The moment felt so intimate to her that it took over her mind, as if reverting her back to her young self. The one that had been lost somewhere, pushed down into silence.
"Nnnf…"
She sniffled and leaned into his towering frame. Her vulnerable arms wrapped around his wide waist, and her head pressed into his hard abdomen. She cared no more that the quilt felt and exposed her chest; she felt safe and comforted in his presence.
"I can't… I can't… Wylis." She cried into his tunic, drenching it with her tears. As a Queen, she felt embarrassed by herself, revealing such a disgusting side of herself. But when she felt his big hands, one caressing her back, and the other gently caressing the back of her head, she wept even more.
Years of locked emotions and tears spilled out. Years of abuse and pain in the form of her muffled wails.
"I loathe him… that man… he's no man… a vile demon, a creature of filth." She cursed and cried. "I wish he had died in Summerhall, I wish… I had died in Summerhall…"
She felt his arms tighten around her. He lowered himself to hold her better and stretched his lengthy legs on either side of her vulnerable frame. But she didn't want him to see her ugly face. So she leaped forward, rising herself on her knees, and wrapped her bare arms around his neck, her equally bare chest smushed into his chest.
And even in that embarrassment, she only found comfort when his mighty arms wrapped her frame. They circled around her nude back and almost covered her entirely. As he squeezed her tighter, she felt warmth.
She sniffled, her face pressed against his neck onto his shoulder. She hugged his neck even tighter, and tighter, mumbling all her complaints.
"I… I want to, Wylis, but I mustn't. For my sons, for Rhaenys, for Aegon… I must endure…"
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