Chapter 345: Good Friend Laena
Godswood Forest
In the lush garden, an array of willows and pines swayed gently, and a clear stream gurgled melodiously.
Rhaenyra strolled leisurely, pausing before a bed of pale purple flowers to admire their delicate beauty.
Nearby, a group of noble ladies and young maidens loitered, ostensibly there to view the flowers, but mostly to show off their gowns and ornaments.
Noticing Rhaenyra's presence, the ladies exchanged glances and greeted her, but none dared to approach her too closely.
She was accompanied by her handmaiden, Sara, and two Unsullied guards who flanked her like iron sentinels.
Rhaenyra pursed her lips and walked deeper into the forest, careful not to disturb the others.
On the other side of the flower garden, a dozen gardeners were busy trimming the foliage.
Among them was a familiar face: the Green Man of Isle of Faces, Greenhand Gal.
Still resembling a chubby old man, Gal wore a rough robe and led the team in tending to a cluster of lilac trees.
After blocking Rhaenyra’s entry to Rhaegar’s bath, he had been expelled from the Isle of Faces and now worked as a temporary gardener at Harrenhal.
Though mostly a healer, Gal occasionally took on gardening tasks at Harrenhal.
Rhaenyra watched the gardeners for a while and felt a wave of sleep come over her. She yawned involuntarily.
"Let's go back."
Sleepy and mindful of the baby in her belly, Rhaenyra decided not to push herself too hard.
As she turned to leave, she noticed a small group of two girls weeding in the flower garden.
Their clothes were simple, their hair coiled and wrapped in silk scarves, giving them a slender, slim appearance from behind.
Rhaenyra glanced at them casually as she walked by, not paying them much attention.
Sniffing the air, she frowned in confusion, her nostrils twitching slightly at a familiar scent.
She twisted a strand of her hair and held it up to her nose, sniffed again, and turned to stare at the two heavily covered girls.
Her gaze moved from their hair wrapped in silk scarves to the silver-gold sideburns sticking out from either side of their ears.
Rhaenyra's eyes narrowed and she said in a low voice, "Sara!
...
Nightfall
Rhaegar returned to Kingspyre Tower, feeling slightly exhausted from the day's events.
Rhaenyra had already retired to her room to rest after a busy afternoon.
Old Tully had returned to Riverrun with the remains of his son, Edmure, and Rhaegar had taken the time to see him off on behalf of the royal family.
In addition, he had a lengthy discussion about the faith of R’hllor with a red priestess. Rhaegar's assessment was less than favorable.
The Faith of the Seven, despite its internal issues, presented a pro-people facade with its teachings and traditions, making it unique in Westeros. In contrast, the R’hllor faith seemed burdensome, even within its stronghold in Essos.
For one, the temple of R’hllor engaged in slave trafficking, keeping boys and girls in captivity to be trained as Fiery Hands or bed slaves. Moreover, their practices included frequent sacrifices, using livestock and even slaves sometimes.
Such beliefs would be branded as heretical if they spread throughout Westeros without significant reform.
The red priestess, aware of the conflict between her faith's teachings and the native customs of Westeros, planned to make adjustments.
Rhaegar, however, remained indifferent. The Faith of the Seven was tyrannical and exclusive, and he believed that introducing foreign beliefs could serve as a necessary shock to its dominance.
While he wouldn't actively support the R’hllor faith, he decided not to obstruct it either, allowing it to find its place among the many foreign faiths.
Faith, after all, was a subtle thing.
...
The Lord's Bedroom Door
Knock, knock...
Rhaegar raised his hand to knock on the door, which creaked open almost immediately.
"Finished working?" Rhaenyra, dressed in a light nightgown, smiled as she looked at him.
Seeing her in such a seductive appearance, Rhaegar grinned, "You have exhausted me. Let me in."
Rhaenyra was pregnant and they had to be careful. But some affection was still possible.
Rhaenyra rested a hand on the door frame and whispered, "No! You have to sleep outside tonight."
"Just a corner of the bed will do," Rhaegar pleaded, thinking she was teasing him about Jeyne.
"No way!" Rhaenyra shook her head firmly. "There’s no room for you tonight. Laena and I are sharing the bed."
She stepped aside, revealing the dark-skinned beauty on the bed. Laena, also in a light nightgown, lay lazily on her side, her rounded, delicate legs crossed and bare. freeweɓnøvel.com
"Oh, sorry!" Rhaegar froze for a moment, hurriedly averting his eyes. "I shouldn’t be looking."
"Maybe you should get Daemon to sleep with you. Uncle and nephew by candlelight," Rhaenyra said, mildly amused.
Rhaegar shook his head quickly. "I just don’t think it’s safe for you two pregnant women to sleep together. It’s better to go back to your respective mates."
"It’s not safe to sleep with you!" Rhaenyra’s eyes were full of contempt.
Rhaegar hesitated, feeling uncomfortable. Rhaenyra’s slender figure leaned against the door frame, her long silver-gold hair hanging down in front of her chest. Her violet eyes scrutinized him deeply, as if trying to see through him.
Rhaegar took a step back, feeling the intensity of her gaze.
Rhaenyra suddenly said, "Rhaegar, I’ve noticed your tastes have changed."
Rhaegar cocked his head in confusion.
"You’re hiding something from me," Rhaenyra said, her eyes glittering as she wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her head in his chest to listen to his heartbeat.
Rhaegar’s scalp tingled, and he hesitantly replied, "I promised Jeyne something..."
"I don’t care about that." Rhaenyra tilted her head, staring at him seriously. "Mother once said that a woman's battlefield is the birthing bed. I already have one foot on the battlefield. You should know what happens when you lie in the army."
"I should cut off the liar’s head," Rhaegar replied stiffly.
"Uh-huh, but I can't afford to cut off your head," Rhaenyra grunted. She produced an ancient gold coin, reminiscing. "Remember this?"
Rhaegar instantly recognized it as one of the ancient Valyrian gold coins he had found in the space bracelet. When he became Heir, he had given Rhaenyra three gold coins, promising to fulfill three of her wishes.
In an instant, Rhaegar's demeanor shifted, his eyes taking on an unprecedented seriousness. "Rhaegar, whatever you want to know, I'll tell you everything."
The three gold coins Rhaenyra considered treasures were kept so secret that even he had trouble finding them. Despite his relationship with Jeyne, she hadn't felt the need to use even one of them.
"It seems you still honor your word," Rhaenyra said, her lips curving slightly. Her eyes revealed a glimmer of emotion as she whispered, "It's a small matter, really, but I want to hear it from you."
There was a hint of guilt in her voice, as if she was apologizing for making the request. Though it was a small matter, it needed to be handled carefully.
Rhaegar's mind drifted. He considered his promises to Jeyne, Helaena's strange behavior, and Sara's secret loyalty...
Lately, there hadn’t been anything particularly troublesome.
As Rhaegar pondered, Rhaenyra wrapped her arms around his neck, nuzzling against his neck and hair. "Think carefully, or else tomorrow night, Laena will still be sleeping with me."
With that, she pressed the ancient gold coin into his hand.
Rhaegar, bewildered, glanced toward Sara, who stood by the bed. Rhaenyra quickly moved to block his view, warning, "Think for yourself, no prying."
She shot a glare at the innocent Sara.
Sara lowered her head, her hands resting in front of her, silent.
Rhaegar was thoroughly perplexed. He would have preferred Rhaenyra to ask him outright, even if it meant facing her wrath.
Guessing was not his strong point.
Could it be about his agreement with Daemon to attack the Triarchy?
Rhaenyra seemed to sense his frustration. She shook her head, smiling, and stood on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek.
"See you tomorrow."
The door to the room closed with a thud.
Rhaegar stood there in silence, faintly hearing Rhaenyra and Laena's voices from within.
He turned and walked away silently, deciding to find Tormund to gather more information before seeking out Daemon for a place to sleep.
After all, it was Daemon's wife who had taken his bed.
...
Inside the room.
Rhaenyra and Laena were lying on the bed, huddled in each other's arms.
“Worried?”
Laena's gaze softened as she embraced her friend, caressing her gently.
Rhaenyra shook her head. “Just a bastard woman. I just feel sorry for Rhaegar, watching over him too closely.”
The words were true, but whether she felt good in her heart was another matter.
Rhaegar had betrayed her once more.
Laena saw it differently. "Rhaegar despises vulgar women; it's one of his strengths."
“It turns out he's not the one who can't only have me.” Rhaenyra's voice was muffled and moody.
Laena sighed helplessly. "Even a man as unsmiling as my father still has a mistress in Hull Town, or you can compare that to Daemon's flirtatiousness."
She was not a calculating woman; Daemon was not a discreet man.
She admired Daemon's untamed character and extraordinary experiences, and Daemon saw her beauty and family history.
Rhaenyra looked up at her, her small hand slipping under the hem of the other woman's skirt to caress her bulging belly and said teasingly, "If you say so, I feel much better inside."
"Rhaenyra, you're so annoying!" Laena grabbed the small, mischievous hand and pretended to be angry.
Rhaenyra teased for a moment, her head cushioned against her friend's softness, and said ruefully, "He's my brother, but I often play the role of a mother who doesn't want to be separated from him even for a moment."
Laena touched the small of her back and said soothingly, “You are a mother now.”
Rhaenyra's behavior was the result of her instruction, Rhaegar wasn't Daemon, with his pride and strict upbringing, he disliked trouble and flirtation.
Misunderstandings would arise, but they always found a way to move past them.
...
Two days later.
In the martial arts field, atop the high platform, a scarlet dragon swooped past, its slender, snake-like body moving with remarkable agility. Wide wings beat, stirring up a wild wind.
Daemon, dressed in pitch-black armor, sat with a commanding presence. “Brother, the pirates of the Triarchy' Kingdom are becoming more rampant. This is not a good sign.”
Viserys, frowning in frustration, waved him off. “The Triarchy have always been troublesome. You’re overreacting. Let’s discuss it after the tournament. Don’t spoil my mood.”
Daemon scoffed. “You always have a reason to reject me.”
He leaned back, exasperated. Despite his private attempts to persuade Viserys, his concerns were continually dismissed, leaving him with little patience.
Laena, sitting next to him, patted his hand gently to signal decency.
Daemon scowled but reached out to stroke his wife's belly, his gaze burning into his nephew across the field.
Rhaegar, on the other hand, presented a composed figure. His long hair was tied back and he wore a set of silver and white armor designed for defense. The diamond-shaped, mirror-bright breastplate, dragon-headed shoulder armor, and crimson cloak set him apart.
Rhaegar's face was calm as he whispered to Tormund, his eyes never leaving Daemon.
The two exchanged looks of mutual disdain. Daemon's eyes were dark, a cold smile tugging at his lips.
He couldn't fathom what had offended Rhaegar, who had invaded his personal space for two nights. Maybe it was a tactic to unsettle him.
Daemon's gaze shifted to Laenor, who stood behind Rhaenys, watching the fight with a smile. An unsettling thought crossed his mind and his expression grew darker.
Laenor, sensing the ill will directed at him, shivered involuntarily, feeling a chill despite the warm day.
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