Under the afternoon sun, the middle courtyard of the Red Keep appeared especially grim.
This place should have been where nobles strolled and squires trained, yet at this moment it was utterly silent.
The guards stood at attention, hands gripping their halberds, their faces without expression.
At the center of the courtyard knelt a man—Kelin Rogare, a distant kinsman of Princess Alyn. Three days ago, he had just been assigned to the Red Keep guard and appointed captain of a squad.
He was trembling all over. His costly silk tunic was stained with mud, and several bruises marked his face.
Two guards pressed down on his shoulders, forcing him to remain kneeling.
Aemond stood upon the steps.
Those violet eyes measured him.
"Stealing the prince's personal belongings." The commander of the guard, Gwayne Hightower, spoke first.
"In the Red Keep, that is a capital crime."
Kelin jerked his head up, tears and snot mingling together. "Your Highness! I did not! I swear! I merely… merely entered the wrong chamber! I—"
"Your hand reached into my desk drawer?" Aemond cut him off.
"My men saw it with their own eyes."
"Tell me, Kelin Rogare—what was it that interested you?"
"I… I am newly arrived. I was not familiar with the corridors…"
"Not familiar—to the point you could pry open a locked drawer yourself?"
Aemond descended the steps. He halted before Kelin and looked down upon the crumpled man.
Kelin's face was ashen, his lips trembling, unable to form words.
From the arched entrance of the courtyard came hurried footsteps. All turned their heads—Alyn had arrived.
The Princess stood with her swollen belly evident, her deep violet gown sweeping as she walked swiftly.
Her face was taut. Two maidservants hurried behind her, wishing to urge her to slow her pace, yet daring not to speak.
"Prince Aemond!" Alyn demanded.
"What is the meaning of this?"
Aemond did not turn. He continued to look at Kelin.
"Passing judgment upon a thief," he said coolly, his back to her.
"A thief?" Alyn stepped closer, her breath unsteady from haste.
"Kelin is my kinsman—of House Rogare!"
"How could a Rogare steal? This must be a misunderstanding…"
"There is no misunderstanding." At last Aemond turned and met Alyn's eyes.
"The evidence is certain. My men seized him on the spot. The letters he stole were found upon him."
"By the law, to steal from the royal house is to lose one's head."
Alyn drew in a sharp breath.
She looked about her. The guards remained expressionless, and several watching squires and officials lowered their heads.
At last, her gaze fell upon Gwayne Hightower.
The newly appointed commander of the Red Keep guard stood just behind and to the side of Aemond.
"Ser Gwayne," Alyn's voice carried a plea. "This must be a mistake."
"Kelin has only been here three days—how could he possibly…"
"Princess," Gwayne said, "the evidence… is indeed ample."
"This is only a small punishment," Aemond said lightly.
"For the Red Keep's safety. For the royal house's dignity."
"As princess, you should not beg mercy for a thief."
"He is not a thief!" Alyn shot back.
"He is a Rogare. A Rogare cannot be a thief!"
Aemond said coolly, "Do some people believe that once the Crown Prince has been formally invested, they can do as they please in the Red Keep?"
"That they can enter and leave another man's chambers at will?"
"That they can pry into what they ought not pry into?"
With each sentence, he took one step forward. Alyn retreated despite herself, until her back struck a stone pillar in the courtyard.
At last, Aemond stopped before her.
"Your belly is already so large," Aemond said, his gaze dropping to her swollen abdomen.
"You should rest properly, tend the child, and bear Aegon a healthy babe."
"Not… trouble yourself with matters that are not yours to trouble yourself with."
At the center of the courtyard, Kelin let out a shrill wail. "Princess! Save me! I truly did not steal anything! I have been wronged!"
Alyn's chest heaved as she stared at Aemond.
"Rats like this," Aemond went on, "should be swept clean."
"You let such a man into the Red Keep…"
"Are you blind?"
"Today I am only cutting off his hand. That is already a courtesy to you, Alyn Rogare."
"If you think I am unjust…"
He paused.
"Then take his head. I do not mind."
Alyn parted her lips, yet no sound came.
Fear, humiliation, being ignored—every emotion churned inside her, until they gathered into a trembling, furious scream: "I am the princess—the future queen!"
"You… you cannot do this!"
"Aemond!"
"You are far too arrogant!"
At those words, Aemond's expression changed.
The calm he had maintained on purpose cracked, revealing beneath it the most real part of him—the most savage.
His eyes tightened sharply, and a flare like fire flashed through his pupils.
"Arrogant?"
"I cannot?"
He repeated it.
Aemond gave a cold laugh.
"Are you certain you wish to set yourself against me, woman?"
Alyn had never seen Aemond like this.
Yet at this moment, something primal and dreadful burned within his eyes.
It was the dragon's blood boiling.
"No…" Alyn shook her head. Fear had already taken hold of her. Before she could finish speaking, a finger pressed against her lips, bidding her be silent.
"Then be silent…" He said.
"Listen well, and remember it."
"I am Aemond Targaryen."
He leaned closer.
"In this city, in this kingdom—so long as I will it, I truly can do as I please…"
Alyn's body began to tremble.
As she looked at Aemond, she felt, all at once, a terror without bottom.
"Be a proper future queen," Aemond stepped back. His expression returned to calm, as though nothing had happened.
"Do not try my patience…"
He turned to leave, yet paused, glancing sideways.
"If you—or anyone—believe you can play games with me…"
"I am ever ready."
With that, he strode away.
Behind him, the officers' boots struck the stone in measured unison.
Gwayne hesitated a moment, bowed to Alyn, and then turned to follow.
Alyn remained where she stood, her back against the stone pillar, trembling.
At last, tears fell, sliding down her cheeks and dripping upon her deep violet gown.
"Carry it out." The voice of the officer who remained rang out.
One guard seized Kelin's hand. Another raised his sword and brought it down.
"No!" Kelin's scream tore through the air.
Then came the dull thud of impact—and a wail of agony.
Alyn closed her eyes. She had no need to look to know what had happened.
When she opened them again, at the center of the courtyard there remained only a dark red pool of blood—and two severed hands, deliberately cast before her, still twitching faintly.
Kelin had already been dragged away, leaving a streak of blood upon the stones.
Several attendants, shaking, brought buckets of water and began to wash the ground.
Alyn felt her legs give way.
Bracing herself against the pillar, she slowly slid down to sit upon the ground.
The maidservants hurried forward to help her, yet she waved them away.
She needed to be alone.
She needed to take in all that had just occurred.
Kelin had been placed there by her—this was true.
After the Crown Prince's investiture ceremony, Alyn had understood clearly that the Red Keep guard was wholly under Aemond's control.
She needed eyes of her own. Ears of her own.
Thus she had chosen a few shrewd and reliable distant kin from House Rogare and found means to place them in various posts.
Kelin was the first.
He had lasted only three days.
And then Aemond had found his excuse.
It was a warning. A display. And also a naked exhibition of power—or… of violence.
---
I will post some extra Chapters in Patreon, you can check it out. >> patreon.com/TitoVillar
---