Aemon grabbed the weathered scroll from Melisandre with reverence. This was not something that he and Rhaegal had discussed thus far, but he immediately recognized what it was.
"What you spoke of. On Dragonstone. This is it?"
Rhaegal had not shared the full details with him, not fully trusting ravens to relay sensitive information to him. But enough had been said in their letters for Aemon to gleam that his nephew had found something important, something long forgotten on Dragonstone.
"That scroll is but one of many," Rhaegal said with a small smile. "There are dozens. The one you hold contains dragonlore. There are others like it. The rest? They are about blood magic."
Blood magic?
"That is….dangerous."
"Yes. It's why Visenya had them hidden away," Rhaegal said. "Only certain Targaryens were meant to know of them. After Maegor's death, that knowledge was lost. Even if other Targaryens after them discovered the secret door, then they would have failed to get in, not knowing that it requires a blood ritual for it to open."
Aemon was not surprised. "Visenya Targaryen has been suspected of many things during and after her life."
"This one appears to be true."
Aemon looked down at the scroll in his hands. "Have you read them?"
"Of course, uncle. I could not resist knowing more about our lost knowledge." Rhaegal then shook his head. "Unfortunately, the blood magic contained within the scrolls might be a bit outside of my expertise. But there are others who can be taught."
Aemon understood. "Your sister."
Rhaegal didn't try to make excuses. "Shaena is smart and driven with the right motivations. If she is to be my queen, then she will need every tool at her disposal."
"That's a dark path, Rhaegal," Aemon warned him. "Your father is already causing enough tension by bringing foreign priests into his service. Your own magic has made many wary. The dragons too. Now you want to introduce blood magic?"
The realm would be ready to implode. Rapid changes were rarely welcomed.
Aemon noticed Melisandre smiling at his words, but she did not speak up. A strange one, this red woman.
"Fire and blood are our house's words for a reason, uncle." Rhaegal did not seem deterred. "Blood magic is indeed dangerous and volatile, but it can also be useful. If Shaena has talent for it, then all the better. There would be no need to promote it either. It would just be another card for us to hold."
Aemon was not convinced. Blood magic was powerful, but there was always a cost. Their Valyrian ancestors had built an empire of blood and suffering, enslaving many in order to fuel their magic. Trying to rely on that power could cost Rhaegal everything.
'He will still try to make it work.' Aemon knew just how determined Rhaegal could be. He would not be able to talk his nephew out of this. The best he could do for Rhaegal now was work alongside him to make sure that he did not make a mistake that he could not take back.
"Do not worry, uncle." Almost as if he was reading his thoughts, Rhaegal spoke. "I will not resort to needless blood sacrifices. However tempting it may be, such a path will lead to more pain down the road. I do not wish for it."
Aemon felt himself relaxed a little. He did not know why. Rhaegal could very well be lying. And yet, something told him that his nephew was being truthful with him.
"I understand."
Aemon did.
"Well, it seems your concerns were for naught, my prince," Melisandre spoke up, her smile still in place. "Your uncle understands your path well."
"I understand what I must," Aemon said. He wasn't sure if his tone was defensive or not.
Rhaegal looked at the red woman. "There's no need to try and antagonize him, Melisandre. For you know that he is right. We have enough enemies as it is."
Aemon tore his attention away from the scroll. He wanted to read it as quickly as he could. The same with the others. But right now, his attention was needed here.
"What do you know, nephew?"
He was curious to know more about the political landscape of the realm at large.
"There are small fires burning in the Riverlands and the Vale," Rhaegal said as he stepped closer to the glass candle.
Arthur remained by the entrance, just observing in silence.
"The Reach might share some of those fires soon enough," Rhaegal continued, staring into the glass candle. "The same is true for the Stormlands and Dorne. The Faith has been quietly stirring. Some minor lords follow them. Not out of faith, but ambition. Nothing overt, but it's still enough for my spies to notice. They fear me. They fear the dragons. They will fear what I plan to do."
Aemon stared at his nephew. He was a prince that seemed to carry the entire world on his shoulders.
"What are your plans?"
"Connection." Rhaegal made it sound simple as he glanced at Aemon. "I will first connect the Riverlands and the Vale. The Trident and its rivers separate them. It hinders movement. Trade. Communication. No longer. Along with the roads, I will set up bridges that span all across the Green Fork and the others. These will also connect to the North to ensure a more direct passage. There will be no need for a monopoly on the river. A new road will be established that will connect Storm's End to Sunspear. The Dune Road, I call it. Dorne has remained isolated for too long. I will not allow it any longer. I will ensure that a census for every man, woman, and child in the realm is held every ten years, so that the crown is not cheated from its due. Every village. Every livestock. We will keep a record. The crown will not turn a blind eye to corruption."
Aemon pictured all these changes in his head, of how they would alter the realm. A new image began to form. One of stronger connections.
But also stronger opposition.
"There are many lords that will be unhappy," Aemon murmured.
The Marcher lords chiefly among them. Right now, the only passages through the Red Mountains, like the Prince's Pass, were natural formations carved by geography. To create a more central route would require much control over the lords in the region. Not to mention the consent of houses Baratheon and Martell.
'The Baratheons might not be an issue.'
Steffon was still a close friend to Aerys despite his absence from the capital.
But the Martells?
Aemon now understood why his nephew spoke of fires earlier.
"You have a grand vision, Rhaegal."
Aemon knew that Aegon would have been proud of Rhaegal.
Rhaegal chuckled. "I appreciate the kind words, uncle. If only the realm agreed with you, then my task would be so much simpler."
"It does not help that you rejected the Dornish princess," Melisandre said, her tone playful. "I'm sure they would be more favorable to the idea of a central road that would leave them exposed in future conflicts if you married their princess."
"I have no desire to do so." Rhaegal's tone was final. "They are subjects to the throne. That should be enough."
Unfortunately, many times it was not. History proved that.
'Loyalty is seldom given for free,' Aemon thought with some amount of bitterness. His own grandfather, Daeron the Good, had been betrayed during the first Blackfyre Rebellion by men who were supposedly loyal subjects.
"You have brothers," Melisandre suggested. "Your twin perhaps. He is your age but still a free man."
"Father's plan," Rhaegal replied. "He'd hoped that mother would provide us with more sisters for Rhaegar to marry."
Given Rhaegar's and Daeron's age, that was no longer a feasible option for the two of them.
"The lady speaks true." Aemon did not like saying this. "Your father will understand. An alliance with Dorne-"
"I fear that is no longer an option for us," Rhaegal cut him off with a shake of his head. "Even if it was, I doubt father would go for it. He's held the Martells in contempt for a while now. For trying to use mother against him in their attempts to make Elia my bride."
Aemon could see that. Aerys was not a man who easily forgave slights, whether true or not.
"There are other options for my brother," Rhaegal continued. "He's prepared to accept whomever. He just does not want to marry before me. He knows that many will try to use that against me. Father may have declared me his heir, but I'm still technically the second son. If Rhaegar, who is already a dragon rider, marries before I and secures a male heir, then many will whisper that he should be king. Especially since I am to marry my sister while Rhaegar will not. They might even try to call for another Great Council."
Was the situation so delicate that it required such considerations?
'No, what am I thinking? Of course it is.'
A scenario where Rhaegar married a daughter of one of the great houses at a time where many lords were already on edge would see many try to pit brother against brother, especially since Aerys was breaking the traditional order of succession as was the law. Or what many considered to be the law of the realm. It might not have mattered much before, but if men became desperate enough then they would use anything that they could.
The realm was rarely quiet. Even without open conflict, there were always schemes in the background.
"Just take care that you do not repeat the same mistakes of your great grandfather, Rhaegal," Aemon said. "If you speak true, then arranging a betrothal only to break it later will simply create more enemies that you do not need."
"I'm well aware. Although, I should add, were it not for such mistakes, then I would not be standing here before you today, uncle."
Aemon felt himself smiling despite the heavy topic of their conversation.
"True."
It was irresponsible to think this way, but Aemon was gladdened that Jaehaerys and Shaera had defied his brother.
'I doubt any of them imagined where that choice would lead.'
Again, it paid to live a long life.
"Daeron's future has already been decided," Rhaegal added, almost as an afterthought. "It took a bit to convince father, but he finally saw reason."
Aemon was curious. "Who have you chosen for your younger brother?"
Which house? Which kingdom?
Rhaegal looked amused. "Father will announce it during the upcoming celebrations."
Keeping an old man in suspense….such cruelty.
Sighing, Rhaegal turned back to the glass candle. "Those are merely some of the concerns plaguing my mind. And they are internal. There are also external threats I might have to soon consider."
Aemon didn't know what to make of that. "What do you mean?"
"These pirates." Rhaegal sounded bitter just saying the word. "They're acting far more organized than before. There's something brewing in the Stepstones. It's almost as if history is repeating itself."
Melisandre laughed softly. "I believe that is you suffering from success, my prince. You expanded too quickly, and certain powers took notice. Your strategy of pitting your enemies together worked at the beginning, but you knew it was not something that would hold forever. Even prideful men can set aside their ambitions when they're cornered."
Rhaegal scowled as he said. "That aside, there is something else that has been plaguing my mind. The black dragon."
Aemon's heart froze. "The Blackfyres?"
He thought that was a name that he would never have to hear again, not unless it was spoken of in history books.
Rhaegal looked at Aemon. "What do we know of Maelys?"
"The Monstrous?" Aemon gathered his thoughts. "He was the last Blackfyre after he murdered his cousin, Daemon. Ser Barristan of the Kingsguard cut him down during the previous war."
"He had no children of his own then."
"No." Aemon tried to understand where Rhaegal was going with this. "Do you believe that he did?"
"No, I do not," Rhaegal answered. "But what of Daemon? What do we know of him? Or the other Blackfyres? The Black Dragon had many sons and daughters. It's possible that Essos is crawling with his blood, and we just don't know it."
Aemon was perturbed. "Are you suggesting that there are still remnants of the Blackfyres on Essos? Where is your proof?"
Had the glass candles shown him anything?
"Nothing. Yet." Rhaegal looked troubled. "You had your own vision, uncle. Your own dream. So you must understand a little. During my travels to recover the eggs in the North, I had a couple of dreams myself. I have been trying to piece them together ever since."
"And you saw the black dragon?"
"I did." Rhaegal ran a hand through his hair. "I'm not sure what it means. Regardless if there are any Blackfyres remaining or not, I must still recover the sword. Blackfyre is meant to be wielded by us. Only then will our house be fully restored once more."
"If that is your goal, then the Golden Company will be your best bet," Aemon suggested. "There might still be some who were there during Maelys' takeover. However, their willingness to hear you out is another story."
"I have my own methods of making them talk once I reach them."
Aemon did not doubt that. He was aware that Rhaegal was more preoccupied with the affairs in the realm than going to Essos right now.
"You must devote yourself to your practice more, my prince," Melisandre said, her voice dripping with encouragement. "These other distractions only hinder your progress."
"They are not distractions, Melisandre. They are foundations that will secure my house's future."
Melisandre bowed her head. "As you say, my prince. But my suggestion remains. As much as the glass candles seem to respond to you, there is still much to be discerned with further training."
Rhaegal sighed. "Truly, there is never enough time to achieve all that you want."
Aemon shook his head. "You're too hard on yourself. You've already done more in four years than many kings. As you often say, patience is a virtue. Do not ever forget."
Rhaegal smiled at that. "Thank you for the kind words, uncle."
"It is what I'm here for." Aemon then leaned in closer, almost whispering. "But tell me. Besides scrolls, what else did you manage to uncover on Dragonstone? My heart and mind are racing with the possibilities."
Rhaegal's smile widened.
---
Lord Denys Darklyn was an ambitious man. He did not consider this a fault of his. For what lord in Westeros was not ambitious?
Denys shared the same common features as that of his family. Brown hair with brown eyes. It was nothing noteworthy. But while their features might be common, their lands were not.
Duskendale had once been a very prominent port town off the coast of the Blackwater Bay. Back before the Iron Throne was forged, much trade and commerce passed through the town on its way from Essos to Westeros and vice versa. Since the establishment of King's Landing almost three centuries ago, Duskendale's influence began to wane. It was even worse during the days of Corlys Velaryon, the man who established many trade routes to different parts of the world all centered around Driftmark after his legendary voyages. This trade and exploration propelled his house to such rapid prominence which had never seen before.
The Darklyns have not had such success.
While the Velaryons fell from grace after the Dance, King's Landing remained. The importance of Duskendale as a trading port continued to diminish. This trend only worsened in recent years with the rise of Prince Rhaegal and his partnership with the Velaryons. Almost overnight much gold was poured into Driftmark in order to rebuild it. Spicetown was once again starting to thrive with the reestablishment of those old trade routes, and Denys heard rumors that Lucerys Velaryon was even planning on rebuilding High Tide as well.
All of this was done with the support of the crown prince, who seemed to favor the houses under his domain for his own ambitions.
If only he did not snub Denys and his house in the process.
Denys' father had bemoaned over their slow death, but rather than doing anything about it he had remained indecisive. Denys had loved his father, but when the man finally died four years ago a part of Denys was gladdened by it. For now he was lord, and he could finally do something about their situation.
How naive he had been.
Denys had tried to gain an audience with the king in order to petition the crown for more rights that could potentially see Duskendale rise from the ashes of insignificance. He had tried many times over the last three years.
Denys was denied each time. Not by the king, but by the Hand. Tywin Lannister was said to be a stern and calculating man, and Denys was seeing that for himself in this endeavor.
Denys suspected the reasons for Tywin's refusal. No doubt the lion wanted to make sure that he did not become a rival to the crown prince's endeavors in the Blackwater Bay, nor did Tywin want Duskendale to rival King's Landing when it came to commerce.
A loyal dog of the dragons, that one.
Or so his lovely wife claimed.
Serala was a beautiful woman. It was what attracted him to her in the first place, but she also had useful connections in Myr that he could potentially exploit one day, were he in a position to do so.
Denys often shared his concerns with her, expecting some sound advice. He did not think that she was foolish enough to suggest that he openly defied the king for refusing to even meet with him.
There were many tales of the crown prince that made Denys wary. The so-called Clash at the Stone painted the young crown prince as an able commander, and that was without his magical abilities. The dragons were now a reality as well. Denys was not interested in seeing his lands burned, as rumors spoke of how big the dragons had grown in a short amount of time.
Serala underestimated what a dragon's fire could do. Harrenhal was a constant reminder of the power of their flames, and the Targaryens had at least four dragons to use in battle.
No. Open defiance was suicide. Denys was desperate, but he wasn't so stupid as to go up against dragons by himself.
Denys did not have an extensive information network as some other lords, but he had some intelligence at his disposal. There were many lords who were displeased with the Targaryens in the Riverlands that he was aware of, but using them would probably not work. They had no incentive to take up arms for his cause, where the benefits for them were nothing and the dangers were high.
Denys believed that the Targaryens would be hesitant to strike against many lords at once when there was so much tension simmering in the shadows. It could very well inspire others who were discontent to take up arms. But without a proper coalition, this path was closed off to him.
There was another, perhaps far riskier path.
Go to King's Landing and ask for an audience with the king in person.
If everything went well, then the worst Denys would receive was more rejection. If he was rejected, then perhaps he should start to revisit other options. Either way, he was determined to achieve his goals as soon as he could.
It was with this determination that Denys set out to King's Landing with a small retinue in tow. He left his younger brother behind, as well as his wife and the rest of his house in the unlikely event that anything happened to him.
Denys was startled when he arrived at the city. It was the first time that he was returning since the tourney four years ago.
'What is going on?'
King's Landing…it was like a whole different city!
There were no more dirt roads. Many of the buildings had been rebuilt using marble and other stones. In the distance, Denys also noticed a newly built portion of the city walls. It was made from the same material as the roads.
'Black stone.'
Denys could not believe it. He'd heard that King's Landing had gone through a transformation over the past four years, but this seemed to be otherworldly.
Those in his retinue shared in his amazement as they murmured among themselves.
Denys could now feel a new weight pressing down on him. The dragons were legends and mystical, something that his mind could not properly imagine. But the sight before him? This was real. This was a show of power.
If the Targaryens were capable of this in four years, what else could they do?
'All the rumors…'
Denys was once again glad that he did not plot against the king. For if he did, it would surely spell his doom.
The Lord of Duskendale tried to maintain his calm as he rode through the city with his men. The oppressive odor that the city was infamous for was gone. More of the smallfolk were better dressed compared to the last time that he was here. In fact, he noticed that many of them were smiling as they went about their day.
This was more than an outward change. The mood of the city was transformed as well.
Denys knew that the Targaryens had begun to receive more love from the smallfolk over the course of Aerys' reign, but the smallfolk were fickle. They could love you one day and then turn on you the next. And yet, the smiles on the people's face exhibited something more profound.
Denys began to realize that he should have been paying more attention to the happenings in the capital rather than sitting in Duskendale lamenting about the state of affairs. He was going in more blind than he'd thought.
Unfortunately, he could not turn back now. He had to accomplish something….right?
Denys did not know how much time passed from his arrival at the city gates to when he entered the Red Keep.
There was no one waiting for him in the courtyard. He had one of the servants take the horses away as one of the Kingsguard approached him.
"Lord Darklyn."
Denys recognized the knight as Ser Gwayne Gaunt. As he was wearing his house's colors, Denys was not surprised that the knight recognized him.
"Ser Gwayne."
"You were not expected today." The Kingsguard's eyes studied him for a moment before glancing to those in his retinue.
Denys tried to sound calm.
"Yes. I have come to petition his Grace on an urgent matter. This is something that must be done in person."
"I see." Gwayne's eyes trailed back to him. "Unfortunately, you have come at a bad time. The king is currently not in the Red Keep. He has gone to the Dragonpit."
"What?"
"The king enjoys spending time with his dragon, so he goes to visit him every day if possible," Ser Gwayne explained. "I do not know when he will be back, and he does not like to be disturbed while he's in the Dragonpit."
Dammit. Denys did not think that his timing would be so poor that he would miss the king altogether. He had hoped that this would be resolved quickly, but perhaps he might have to exercise some restraint. This could actually be a blessing in disguise and allow him time to regain his composure before he faced the king.
Denys made to give a response but stopped himself when he noticed someone stepping into the courtyard.
'Prince Rhaegal.'
Despite not having seen the young Targaryen in four years, Denys instantly recognized him.
The crown prince was not alone. Another of the Kingsguard was with him. Ser Arthur Dayne. A young knight that was quickly growing in fame due to his rise to the Kingsguard at such a young age. Not to mention that he also wielded Dawn, one of the most well-known weapons in all of Westeros.
The other with them was a beautiful woman. She was more beautiful than his own Serala.
'The red priestess.'
Little was known of her, except that she was a close confidant to the crown prince. There were rumors that she was also the prince's lover, which some were using to besmirch the prince's name.
In some small corner of his mind, Denys knew that he would take the beautiful woman as his lover too if given the chance.
The crown prince spotted him right away.
"Lord Darklyn, I presume?" The prince's tone was welcoming as he approached Denys with Ser Arthur and the red priestess in tow.
"My prince." Ser Gwayne bowed his head.
Rhaegal nodded at the knight before his gaze landed back on Denys.
Denys for his part bowed his head in respect as well.
"Prince Rhaegal. As unexpected as this is, it is a pleasure to meet you face-to-face."
"Yes. I believe the last time you were in King's Landing, your father was still the Lord of Duskendale."
"That is correct." Denys almost stammered in response. He did not expect that the crown prince of all people would be this well-informed of his house's affair.
"Hmm. Fortuitous timing then."
Denys was still trying to understand what was happening as he raised his head. "My prince?"
"I was meaning to speak to you, my lord." Rhaegal motioned to the Red Keep. "I believe I know your reason for coming here. I may just have a solution that will benefit the both of us, Lord Darklyn."
At that moment, Denys did not know whether the gods were smiling down on him or if they were trying to play a cruel prank on him.
But what else was there for him to do but accept the prince's invitation and see where it led him.
---
Shaena Targaryen knew that she was born lucky.
She did not remember when she first began to realize just how fortunate she was to be who she was. She carried the blood of the Conqueror in her. She was the blood of the dragon, or so many liked to claim.
When she was younger, Shaena often wondered why the dragons had died. Her lessons with the septa were painful, but she enjoyed her history lessons. She began to understand that the actions of past Targaryens had deprived her of the chance to soar in the heavens. To truly be a dragon like the Targaryens of old.
Shaena did not understand why her family had fought over a silly chair. Dragons were much cooler than a throne in her opinion. If she had been Rhaenyra, then she would have let Aegon take the ugly chair while she enjoyed her freedom. Instead, they fought like idiots and caused the dragons to die.
So stupid.
For a century they were gone, and people believed that they would never return.
But then her brother did the impossible. He brought the dragons back. Because of him, Shaena could now fly like the Targaryens of old.
It made her very happy, happier than she'd ever been. When she was with her dragon, Shaena felt at peace. Like nothing ever mattered.
She loved her brother more for it.
Her father had told her when she was very young that she was going to be at Rhaegal's side. That she was going to marry him. Truth be told, Shaena did not know what that meant until recently. By Targaryen tradition, she was going to be united with her brother like her father and mother were.
Shaena was happy with this. She loved her brother. She loved everything about him in fact. He was different than the rest of them. She did not know why he was the only one who was able to wield flames, but it just made her love him all the more.
She did not care about being queen one day if she was honest. Shaena noticed just how boring it was. Her mother was always being watched and talked down to, always being made to feel bad for just wanting to fly with her dragon. It wasn't like a "lady," they said.
Bah. Who cared about that!? Shaena could wear a dress and also fly with Azurax! It wouldn't be hard!
Still, she knew that being with her brother meant that she would have to become queen one day. Shaena loved her brother enough to put up with this fact. In fact, if someone else was declared king, then Shaena would still choose to be with her brother. She was certain that he was the only one for her.
They were brother and sister, after all. Rhaegal was promised to her by tradition and law. Shaena would never let him go.
As she grew, Shaena started to notice that she was not the only one who loved her brother. No, love was the wrong word. They just wanted to use her brother for their own desires. Many of them had gathered in court over the years, trying to court a friendship with her while in reality they were only after one thing.
Shaena hated most of them. As much as she wanted to shoot an arrow straight at their heads, Shaena knew that she had to be more careful. Acting like that would probably cause problems for her beloved brother….probably. For the first time in her life, Shaena began to put the septa's lessons to good use and acted like a "proper lady." Polite but not approachable. Smiling but not friendly. The last thing Shaena wanted was for any of them to think that she wanted them as her friends.
So far, Shaena had only met two exceptions. Ashara and Elia. She could tell. They both loved her brother, not for the crown that he could provide but for who he was. Unfortunately for Elia, Shaena would not let her have her brother. If Elia married her brother, then Shaena knew that she could not be with him.
Shaena would sooner burn down Dorne than let that happen.
For that reason, Shaena did not want a friendship with the Dornish princess. Besides, she was certain that Elia had only come to court because she wanted to steal Rhaegal from her. She was no true friend of hers.
Then there was Ashara. Shaena's feelings toward her were more confusing to be honest. Unlike her other ladies, which included Elia, Ashara did not approach her to get close to Rhaegal. Their friendship started because Shaena did not have any other girl her age to play with in the Red Keep. Rather than take advantage of this fact, Ashara did not exploit her for her own ends.
This was despite the fact that Shaena knew that Ashara loved her brother too.
Shaena had memorized her brother's scent a long time ago. Maybe it was because they slept together often, but Shaena knew how her brother smelled at any given point. Before bathing, after bathing, before training, after training, and after riding his dragon. All of it.
She had smelled her brother's scent on Ashara a lot recently.
In fact, Shaena smelled it on Ashara right now as they rode through the tourney grounds on horseback. Elia was riding with them as well while the rest of her ladies were just spectating from the sidelines.
All three of them were wearing breeches as they raced through the grounds. Shaena was sure that the septa would be fuming if she saw her right now. It served that hag right. Gods, Shaena could not stand her either.
Anyway, as much as Shaena was having fun riding, her mind was still trying to figure out what her brother's scent being all over Ashara meant. She knew that they were often together, but was that enough for her brother's scent to transfer over to Ashara? And so strongly too?
It was so confusing.
Shaena almost screamed in frustration as she came to a stop by the start of their makeshift track. There, waiting for her, was one of the red priests that served her dear brother. He was fat and was often drunk. Even now, the man was drinking wine without a care despite the fact that he was in her presence.
Shaena kind of liked him. He was more honest than other servants.
"Ah, princess." The red priest almost slurred his words as he finally stopped drinking. He swayed in place. "Didn't see you there."
A sweating Ashara joined them on her horse, which whined in greeting. Elia was not far behind.
"I believe Prince Rhaegal told you to cut back on your drinking when you're watching over the princess," Ashara said, scowling at the red priest.
The fat man belched. "Iz all good, my lady! There are plenty of guards around! Also, my drinking has a purpose. It's to make any would-be assassin let their guard down and think that I'm unable to put up a fight!"
For some reason, Shaena wanted to believe him.
Ashara did not. "Look here-"
The rest of her words were drowned out by the sound of bright flames erupting from the trees nearby. The flames were so bright that they all had to look away from them.
One of Shaena's ladies screamed. She wasn't sure which one as it did not take long for the rest to follow.
Was there also a person screaming in the trees? Shaena could not tell. Everything was so loud.
Shaena missed the way the red priest's face hardened when the flames burst into existence.
She did not miss the orders he barked to the guards standing nearby.
"Protect the princess. Escort her back to the Red Keep. Move!"
Shaena was surprised when she noticed that she kept her calm as she was guided out of the tourney grounds by the guards, with Ashara and Elia riding beside her, their faces marred with worry and confusion.
Everything happened so fast that Shaena had no time to see what had happened. It was only after she arrived at the Red Keep that she finally realized that someone had been trying to kill her on this day.
------------
Author's Note: I will be publishing the new story later today. I don't even know how often I'll update that one, but yeah the muse would not leave me for the prologue at least. It's like 2 AM right now, and I'm sleepy. I've got work tomorrow, so yeah I don't feel like doing it right now. If you want to blame the slow update this week, blame Elden Ring. I've been replaying it in preparation for the new release. I might do a magic build this time. Who knows.