The Black Cells, Red Keep.
Inside the fifth level of the dungeon, there was no light except for the torches flickering on the damp stone walls.
Those imprisoned here were all highborn, nobles who had committed crimes, or their unfortunate children.
Here, time was not measured by the rising and setting of the sun, but by the changing of the guards.
A Kingsguard and dozens of Gold Cloaks were responsible for this level, standing watch at the entrance of the claustrophobic corridor.
Inside the cell, Aemond picked up a weighted wooden sword and took a stance.
Whoosh. Whoosh.
He swung it, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, following Cole's teachings.
This was something he had requested of the guards; even while imprisoned, he insisted on daily training. The King did not object.
His cell was much more spacious than the others, with grooves carved into the rough stone walls to hold belongings.
At this moment, dozens of books were placed there, all sent by Grand Maester Mellos at the King's command: Lineages and Histories of the Great Houses, The Fall and Legacy of Valyria, Dragonkin... and at the very bottom lay several knightly romances, likely for fear that the young Prince would be too lonely.
Spread out on the table was Signs and Portents.
Aemond's silver hair was tied back. A month of dungeon life had made his face thinner, his features sharp as if carved by a knife.
Only those purple eyes remained bright under the firelight.
Clang, clang, clang.
The heavy lock turned.
Immediately after, a figure laboriously pushed the heavy door open and walked in.
It was a dwarf, carrying a tray with roasted chicken legs, white bread, and a few spoonfuls of pea mash.
"Your dinner, Prince! Served with King's Landing's freshest rumors and most outdated jokes!"
Mushroom, the Red Keep's court fool, had his less-than-four-foot frame wrapped in colorful motley.
The small bells on his hat jingled with every movement.
He deftly set out his own plate and cutlery; this was his routine preparation for testing Aemond's food for poison.
Since Aemond's imprisonment, King Viserys had made arrangements for Mushroom to eat with him every day, both for safety and for companionship.
The King's exact words were that he did not want his son to meet with misfortune in the dungeon or go mad from loneliness.
Mushroom placed the two plates on the small wooden table, arranged them efficiently, and then climbed onto a specially made raised stool so he could reach the tabletop.
He took a sip of wine first, then cut a small piece of chicken from Aemond's plate, chewing exaggeratedly with wide eyes before swallowing.
After a moment, he spread his arms and announced dramatically:
"See! Not dead! Your food is safe and sound, Honorable Prisoner Prince!"
Aemond sheathed his wooden sword and sat down at the table.
He took a sip of wine before speaking.
"What news is there from outside today?"
"Oh, there's plenty of news!" Mushroom gestured wildly with his hands and feet, chicken leg in hand.
"Over at Driftmark, Princess Rhaenys has finally made a public statement that House Velaryon will not be divided by baseless accusations. However, many Velaryon clansmen have gathered in High Tide, waiting for Lord Corlys to awaken..."
Aemond listened quietly, cutting the chicken on his plate.
Mushroom smiled and continued.
"And there's more. Lady Aelyn Rogar of the Rogar family of Lys, who is betrothed to Prince Aegon, has arrived in King's Landing."
"She has silver hair and purple eyes, and she is absolutely beautiful! The Rogar family also fashioned a golden dragon statue the size of a carriage; everyone in the city ran to the harbor to watch the spectacle."
"The Queen was very pleased by this and distributed many gold coins. Now the commoners of King's Landing are all praising Prince Aegon and Lady Aelyn as a match made in heaven."
"What about Dragonstone?" Aemond asked.
Mushroom's smile faltered for an instant before quickly returning.
"The Heir Apparent... a few days ago, the child in her womb was born. Prince Daemon named him Aegon."
Aemond smiled softly. "Then doesn't House Targaryen have two Aegons now?"
Mushroom clicked his tongue and didn't dare respond.
The name "Aegon" originated from the Conqueror, and the weight of that name was well known to all.
Aemond didn't press further and continued his meal.
He knew far more than just this; through occasional notes passed to him, he knew that Daemon had proposed to the King to exile him a month ago.
He knew his mother, Alicent, went to the Sept every day to pray for him.
He knew that Helaena had started dreaming again. And he knew that Aegon was fooling around with those maids...
"Oh, right, right!" Mushroom suddenly remembered something and pulled a neatly folded silk handkerchief from his tunic.
"Princess Helaena asked me to bring you this yesterday."
Aemond took it.
On a corner of the pale blue silk, small silver-threaded flowers were embroidered, Helaena's handiwork, along with a line of slender handwriting:
'I miss you. Remember, do not defy Father...'
Aemond stared at that line for a long time. Had she foreseen something again?
He looked up. "Did she say anything else?"
Mushroom shook his head.
"No, just that."
The two continued eating in silence.
Mushroom tried to liven up the atmosphere.
He went through his stock of jokes for the day: a crude one about a Dornishman and a camel, a comical story about a Maester's chain getting knotted, and a satirical bit about a bastard walking into a tavern.
But halfway through the last one, he choked on his own words and began to cough awkwardly.
Mushroom remembered the argument about the Strong bastards in the Throne Room not long ago.
"Not funny, this one isn't funny," Mushroom hurriedly stuffed a piece of bread into his mouth.
Aemond, however, slightly curled his lips.
"Why not finish it?"
"Uh, because..."
Aemond put down his knife and fork, folding his hands on the table.
He looked at the dwarf with a calm gaze.
"You've done well this month, relieving much of my boredom."
Mushroom stared blankly at the Prince.
"I heard you still have younger siblings in King's Landing?"
The dwarf nodded.
"I will have someone arrange decent jobs for them as a reward for you."
A grateful smile broke out on Mushroom's face.
For a month, as the King's fool, he knew well how to please those above him.
But he could never see through this Prince; when those purple eyes looked at him, it was always like a dragon looking down at ants, cold and cruel.
At that moment, Mushroom suddenly went silent.
It wasn't a voluntary stop, but as if he had been seized by the throat.
He turned his head toward the cell door, on that heavy iron door, the usually closed peephole was now open by a crack.
An eye was pressed against it.
Aemond noticed it too.
He leaned back against the chair, picked up his wine cup, and took another sip.
This ordinary wine, though sour, was sobering.
Creak... Clank.
The sound of a key being inserted into the lock came from outside, metal grinding against metal.
The heavy door pushed inward.
Viserys, I stood outside the door.
The King wore a heavy black cloak that could not hide the slight trembling of his body, whether from the dungeon's chill or his persistent illness.
His left hand was still wrapped in bandages where the thorn had cut him.
He did not enter immediately, but simply looked at his son in the cell.
Mushroom had already slid off the stool and was kneeling on the ground, his forehead pressed against the cold stone floor.
"Leave us," Viserys said, his voice raspy.
Mushroom felt as if he had been granted a great reprieve and practically scurried out the door.
The guards closed the door again, leaving father and son alone in the torchlight.
-----
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