Jaehaerys POV
Jaehaerys stood upon the balcony of his chambers and looked out over King's Landing.
The city was awake.
The sun had only just begun to rise above the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange and gold, yet thousands of people were already moving through the streets below.
Merchants opened their stalls.
Fishermen hauled in their morning catches.
Labourers carried stone, timber, and supplies through the bustling city.
From this height, the noise blended into a distant hum.
Jaehaerys smiled.
King's Landing.
His grandfather's city.
The city founded by Aegon the Conqueror himself.
When Aegon had first landed upon the shores of Blackwater Bay, there had been little here but hills, forests, and a small fishing village.
Now it was the greatest city in Westeros.
And it continued to grow with each passing year.
His roads stretched farther than any king before him.
Trade flowed through the realm.
The great houses were largely at peace.
The Seven Kingdoms were united.
Not perfectly.
They never would be.
But better than they had been before.
Sometimes he wondered what his grandfather would think if he could see it now.
Would Aegon be proud?
Jaehaerys liked to think so.
A fluttering of wings interrupted his thoughts.
His eyes narrowed.
A black shape approached from the eastern sky.
A raven.
As it drew closer, recognition flashed across his face.
Luthor's raven.
He had sent the man to Harrenhal specifically to keep him informed regarding Princess Rhaena.
If Luthor was writing, then something had happened.
Jaehaerys raised his arm.
The raven descended and landed expertly upon it.
"Good bird," he murmured.
The raven cawed once.
Jaehaerys carefully removed the rolled parchment attached to its leg.
He untied the cord and opened the letter.
His eyes moved across the page.
Slowly.
Then more quickly.
His expression changed several times as he read.
First surprise.
Then confusion.
Then amusement.
Then mild annoyance.
When he finished, he lowered the parchment and sighed.
"Of course."
Only Rhaena could turn something simple into something complicated.
He looked back toward the city as he thought.
When he had sent Ser Lyonel Dondarrion north with Adder's Fang, he had expected one outcome.
Rhaena would reject the gift.
Lyonel would return.
Jaehaerys would reward the knight for his loyalty and place the sword somewhere more useful.
Simple.
Predictable.
Instead, Rhaella had somehow managed to get herself captured by outlaws.
He rubbed his forehead.
By the Seven, why?
Why now?
Why there?
The girl had spent years in Oldtown serving as a septa without issue.
Then, the moment she decided to travel north, bandits descended upon her.
And somehow a Dondarrion knight carrying a Valyrian steel sword happened to be nearby.
Jaehaerys laughed softly.
The gods truly possessed a strange sense of humour.
He read through the letter again.
Ser Lyonel had rescued Rhaella.
Fought through outlaws.
Protected her while fleeing.
Delivered her safely to Harrenhal.
Earned Rhaena's gratitude.
And in return—
Rhaena had accepted Adder's Fang.
Only to immediately give it back to Lyonel.
Jaehaerys groaned.
"Seven Hells, sister."
The sword had technically fulfilled its purpose.
Rhaena had accepted it.
Yet now it belonged to Lyonel.
Legally.
Properly.
And according to Luthor's report, Lyonel had earned it.
The young knight could have taken the sword and disappeared.
Many men would have.
A Valyrian steel blade was worth more than entire castles.
Yet Lyonel had remained loyal.
He had delivered the sword.
Completed his duty.
And asked only that Rhaena accept the King's gift.
The more Jaehaerys thought about it, the more impressed he became.
There were not enough men like that in the world.
Especially among knights.
A movement behind him drew his attention.
He turned.
His wife was awake.
Queen Alysanne sat upright in bed, her silver-gold hair slightly dishevelled from sleep.
Even after all these years, seeing her still brought a smile to his face.
She looked at him curiously.
"You woke early today."
Jaehaerys walked back into the room.
"A king can never wake too early."
Alysanne rolled her eyes.
"You say that every time."
"And every time I am correct."
She laughed softly.
Jaehaerys leaned down and kissed her.
Alysanne kissed him back.
When they separated, she looked at the parchment in his hand.
"News?"
"From Harrenhal."
That immediately caught her attention.
Alysanne stretched and sat properly.
"Good news or bad news?"
Jaehaerys considered the question.
"Both."
Her eyebrow rose.
"That sounds concerning."
"It is mostly concerning for bandits."
That earned a laugh.
He handed her the letter.
Alysanne read it carefully.
As she did, her expression mirrored his own from moments earlier.
Surprise.
Shock.
Amusement.
When she finished, she lowered the parchment.
"This Ser Lyonel sounds brave."
"He does."
"And loyal."
"He does."
Alysanne smiled.
"Then perhaps we should reward him."
Jaehaerys looked out toward the city once more.
His eyes drifted toward the distant silhouette of the Red Keep.
Perhaps they should.
A knight who remained loyal despite carrying a Valyrian steel sword.
A knight who saved a princess's daughter.
A knight who saved his niece.
A knight who asked for nothing in return.
Men like that were rare.
Very rare.
And Jaehaerys Targaryen had learned long ago that rare things were worth keeping close.
A small smile appeared on his face.
Alysanne smiled knowingly.
Rhaella POV
Rhaella stood alone inside a sept.
The air was cool and still.
Seven candles burned before the statues of the Seven-Who-Are-One, their flames dancing gently in the darkness.
The Mother watched over her with her kind eyes.
The Father sat upon his throne of judgment.
The Warrior stood proud with sword in hand.
The Maiden smiled softly.
The Smith held his hammer.
The Crone carried her lantern.
And the Stranger lurked at the edge of the room.
Rhaella knelt before them.
Her hands were clasped tightly together.
Her eyes were closed.
"Mother, grant me your mercy."
"Father, grant me your wisdom."
"Warrior, grant me your courage."
Her voice was quiet.
Almost a whisper.
She had spent years in Oldtown praying before septs much like this one.
It always brought her peace.
It always made her feel closer to the Seven.
For a moment, she felt calm.
Safe.
Then—
BANG!
The doors of the sept slammed open.
The sound echoed through the chamber.
Rhaella gasped and spun around.
Fear instantly filled her heart.
A man stood in the doorway.
No.
Not a man.
A nightmare.
He was enormous.
His armour was soaked in blood.
Fresh blood.
Dark blood.
It dripped from his gauntlets onto the stone floor.
His helmet hid his face.
Only darkness stared back at her.
In his hand was a sword.
A terrible sword.
Its blade twisted like a serpent.
Blood covered every inch of it.
The sword seemed alive.
Moving.
Breathing.
Watching her.
Rhaella stumbled backward.
"Who are you?" she whispered.
The armoured figure said nothing.
He simply began walking toward her.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
The sound of his footsteps echoed throughout the sept.
CLANG.
CLANG.
CLANG.
Each step felt like a hammer striking her chest.
Rhaella tried to move.
Tried to run.
But her legs would not obey.
Fear rooted her in place.
The giant stopped before her.
The bloody sword rose into the air.
Rhaella screamed.
"NO!"
The blade came down.
Everything went black.
Rhaella bolted upright.
A scream escaped her lips.
Her chest heaved violently.
Sweat covered her body.
Her heart pounded so hard she thought it might burst from her chest.
For several moments, she could not understand where she was.
The sept was gone.
The giant was gone.
The bloody serpentine sword was gone.
Instead, she found herself lying in a soft bed.
Sunlight poured through nearby windows.
Stone walls surrounded her.
A familiar room.
A familiar castle.
Harrenhal.
It had been a dream.
Only a dream.
Before she could fully calm herself, a pair of arms wrapped tightly around her.
"Rhaella!"
A familiar voice broke through her panic.
"My girl!"
Rhaella blinked.
Then smiled.
"Mother."
Princess Rhaena held her tightly.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Rhaella simply buried her face into her mother's shoulder.
Gods, she had missed her.
When she had been taken by those men, she had feared she might never see her mother again.
Eventually, Rhaena pulled back.
Both of her hands grabbed Rhaella's cheeks.
Her mother's purple eyes stared directly into her own.
They were filled with worry.
And relief.
"Do not ever do that again."
Rhaella blinked.
"What?"
"Come here from Oldtown without sending a letter."
Rhaena's voice cracked slightly.
"You frightened me half to death."
Guilt immediately filled Rhaella.
She lowered her eyes.
"I only wanted to surprise you."
Rhaena sighed.
The anger left her face.
Only exhaustion remained.
Her mother pulled her into another hug.
This one gentler than the first.
"Just don't ever do it again."
Rhaella smiled weakly.
"Okay, Mother."
"I promise."
Rhaena kissed the top of her head.
"Good."
For a few moments, they simply sat together.
Rhaella found herself enjoying the silence.
Then memories began returning.
The wheelhouse.
The attack.
The arrows.
The screams.
The cage.
The inn.
The knight.
Her eyes widened.
"The knight!"
Rhaena looked at her curiously.
"What knight?"
"The man who saved me."
Images flashed through her mind.
A sword flashing through the darkness.
A strong voice.
A man carrying her through the woods.
A giant white bird sitting upon his shoulder.
Rhaella looked at her mother.
"Where is he?"
Rhaena smiled faintly.
"Thinking about your rescuer already?"
Rhaella blushed.
"No."
"Yes."
Rhaena laughed.
The sound filled the room.
"Very well."
She turned toward the door.
"Torien."
The door opened almost immediately.
An armoured knight entered.
"Yes, Princess?"
"Bring Ser Lyonel here."
Torien hesitated.
Immediately, Rhaella sensed something was wrong.
Her mother's smile faded.
"What is it?"
The knight shifted uncomfortably.
"He left."
The words struck Rhaella harder than she expected.
Left?
A strange sadness settled in her chest.
"He left?"
Torien nodded.
"In the night."
Rhaena frowned.
"Where?"
"King's Landing."
The room became silent.
Rhaella stared down at her blanket.
King's Landing.
He was already gone.
She had not even thanked him.
Not properly.
Not at all.
Her mother rubbed her forehead.
"You are dismissed."
Torien bowed and quickly departed.
After he left, Rhaella gathered her courage.
"Mother."
Rhaena looked at her.
"Yes?"
"Can I send a letter to King's—"
"No."
The answer came instantly.
Sharp.
Firm.
Absolute.
Rhaella blinked.
Rhaena crossed her arms.
"You will send nothing to that accursed city."
Rhaella opened her mouth.
Then closed it again.
There would be no changing her mother's mind.
Not today.
Rhaena sighed.
Realizing she had been too harsh.
"I need to fetch Maester Will."
She stood.
"Stay here."
"I will."
"Good girl."
Her mother kissed her forehead.
Then left the room.
The door closed behind her.
Silence returned.
Rhaella sat alone.
For a long while, she simply stared toward the window.
The morning sun illuminated the room with warm golden light.
Birds flew above the towers of Harrenhal.
Far below, she could hear people beginning their daily work.
Life continued.
As if nothing had happened.
As if she had never been taken.
As if men had never died trying to protect her.
As if a knight had not risked everything to save her.
She looked down at her hands.
The memory of Ser Lyonel returned once more.
His voice.
His kindness.
His courage.
The way he had stood between her and danger without hesitation.
A small smile appeared on her face.
King's Landing was far away.
But not unreachable.
One day, she would thank him properly.
That much she promised herself.
And unlike her mother—
Rhaella Targaryen fully intended to keep that promise.