CHAPTER THREE
❛night flower blooms. ❜

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EARLY 130 AC ⸻ Kings Landing   ⸻

ALL EYES turned to the grand entrance as Ser Leon Payne was ushered in. Tall and strikingly handsome, his presence commanded immediate attention. His armour gleamed under the candlelight, and his cloak billowed softly behind him as he walked.

He approached Basalia with a confident stride, stopping before her with a graceful bow.
"My lady," Ser Leon said, his voice rich and warm, "I am honoured to serve as your sworn knight, to protect and stand by you."

The hall fell into a hushed silence as everyone awaited Basalia's reaction. For the first time that evening, her eyes were clear, sharp with an intensity that startled those who were used to her distant, clouded gaze.

Her eyes locked with Ser Leon's, and for a moment, there was a pause, and a connection was shared, a recognition that was deeper than the usual pleasantries.

However, the intensity of the moment seemed to overwhelm Basalia. Her expression shifted from shock to vulnerability in an instant, and without warning, her strength faltered. She swayed slightly, her knees buckling as she began to collapse.

Quick to react, Jahaena and Lyria helped her as she went down. The sudden incident caused a stir among the royals; Queen Alicent and Princess Helaena stood up in alarm, their faces etched with concern. King Viserys, snapped out of his indulgent revelries, leaned forward, his brow furrowed as he assessed the situation.

Even Prince Aegon, who had spent much of the evening in detached amusement, found himself leaning in, intrigued. Aemond, meanwhile, maintained a facade of curiosity, his eyes flickering with a mix of concern and calculation. He made a half-step forward as if to assist, but it was Ser Leon who acted with swiftness.

Without hesitation, Ser Leon scooped Basalia up in his arms, holding her with a protectiveness that seemed as natural to him as breathing. "I will take her to her chambers," he announced, his voice steady despite the concerned murmurs around him.

"Please, show me the way," he addressed Jahaena and Lyria, his tone respectful yet urgent.

The two ladies nodded, leading the way out of the grand hall with Ser Leon following closely, carrying Basalia with ease. The collective eyes of the court watched them go, whispering among themselves about the implications of the night's events.

⸻

The corridors of the Red Keep were eerily quiet as Ser Leon Payne, bearing the unconscious form of Lady Basalia, followed Jahaena and Lyria through their twisting, shadowed paths. The weight of Basalia in his arms felt significant, more than just the physical burden; it was the weight of his new responsibility.

Upon reaching her chamber, Ser Leon gently pushed open the carved wooden door with his foot, stepping into the softly lit room that was to be Basalia's sanctuary within the stone walls of the keep. He walked to the large bed that dominated the room, carefully laying Basalia down upon the plush bedding. She looked serene, her features relaxed in unconsciousness, a stark contrast to the tension that had marked her face during the feast.

For a moment, Ser Leon allowed himself to stare, taking in the peaceful expression on Basalia's face, wondering about the complex layers of the woman he was sworn to protect. It was a sight that softened something within him.

His thoughts were broken by a soft cough from the doorway. Turning, he saw Jahaena and Lyria watching him, their expressions a mixture of curiosity and amusement. Clearing his throat, Ser Leon straightened to his full height, the role of the knight snapping back into place.

"Apologies, this wasn't quite the introduction I had hoped to make," he said carefully.

Lyria couldn't help but snicker slightly at his comment, earning a quick elbow to her side from Jahaena, whose expression remained politely composed.

"Thank you for your swiftness tonight, Ser Leon. It seems we are indeed in your debt," Lyria said, her tone warm despite the elbow jab from Jahaena.

"I am Jahaena, cousin to our Lady Basalia, and this is Lyria, her handmaiden," Jahaena introduced them formally.

"It is my duty and honour," Ser Leon replied, his tone earnest. However, feeling the weight of the ladies' watchful eyes, he added, "I shall leave you to care for her. Please, call upon me if you need anything further."

With a respectful nod, Ser Leon turned and exited the room, softly closing the door behind him.

Inside the room, Jahaena quickly let out a deep breath, and moved to the washbasin, soaking a clean rag in cool water. She wrung it out, handing it to Lyria, who had taken a seat beside Basalia on the bed. Gently, Lyria placed her hand on Basalia's forehead, relieved to find it not overly warm, but she laid the damp cloth across her brow regardless, hoping to offer whatever comfort she could.

Lyria brushed a few strands of hair from Basalia's face, her movements tender. "She looks so peaceful now," she murmured, her voice a whisper in the dim room.

Jahaena nodded, her eyes softening as she watched Basalia. "I'll keep watch over her tonight," she suggested. "To ensure she recovers fully."

It was then a soft knock at the chamber door broke the stillness of the room. Jahaena rose to answer it, opening the door to reveal Queen Alicent, her expression one of her usual regal composers.

"I came to see how Lady Basalia fares," Alicent said as she stepped into the room, her gaze quickly falling on Lyria who now stood beside Basalia's bed.

"Oh, you're still here," Alicent remarked, her tone carrying a slight edge of surprise—or perhaps, disapproval.

Lyria, feeling a twinge of offence at the implication of her unwelcome presence, managed to maintain her composure. "Yes, Your Grace, I wanted to ensure our lady was well," she responded with a practised grace, hiding any sign of discomfort. "I best bid you both a good night then."

With a respectful curtsy, Lyria shared a brief, meaningful look with Jahaena, whose expression betrayed a hint of unease at being left alone with the queen. Turning gracefully, Lyria exited the room, closing the door softly behind her.

As she walked down the dimly lit corridor, she passed several guards who watched her pass, their stares pointed and lingering. Despite the weight of the stares, she moved with a calm certainty, deciding that a walk to the gardens would provide a needed break from the heavy atmosphere of the castle.

⸻

The night air was cool and fresh, a nice contrast to the stuffiness of the feast hall and the chambers. Lyria made her way through the maze of corridors to the grand doors that led to the royal gardens.

As she stepped outside, the scent of night flowers and the gentle sound of a fountain welcomed her, offering a nice peace.

In the quiet seclusion of the gardens, Lyria found a bench near a softly burbling fountain and sat, taking in the serene beauty of the night. Here, away from prying eyes and whispered judgments, she could gather her thoughts and steel herself for what was to come.

As she absorbed the serene beauty around her, a voice suddenly broke the stillness. "I thought that went quite well, don't you?" The tone was slightly amused, unmistakably confident.

Lyria quickly looked up to see Prince Aemond approaching, his hands clasped casually behind his back, a slight smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. The moonlight cast shadows across his face, enhancing his features that Lyria couldn't help but admire.

Lyria straightened up, her initial surprise fading into a composed demeanour. "Your Grace," she greeted, maintaining the formality due to him despite the informal setting. "It seems we have different interpretations of the evening's events."

Aemond stepped closer, his smirk widening just a bit as he stopped beside her. "Indeed. From my perspective, it was quite the introduction. Drama, fainting... it was all very... engaging." His tone was teasing, but there was a sharpness behind his words, suggesting that he was searching for more than just casual conversation.

Lyria met his gaze steadily, aware of the game he was playing. "It was memorable," she conceded, choosing her words carefully. "But perhaps not for the reasons you might prefer. Lady Basalia's well-being is of utmost concern to us."

"Of course," Aemond replied, his expression softening slightly as he turned to look out at the gardens. "Ser Leon seems a capable addition to her entourage. I trust he will be diligent in his duties."

There was a pause as Lyria considered her next words. "He seems honourable," she agreed. "We are grateful for his support."

A moment of silence stretched between them, as Aemond unexpectedly sat down on the bench. "And you, Lady Lyria, how do you find the intrigues of the court? I imagine it's quite a departure from the Riverlands."

Aemond's eyes met hers, their intensity softened by the moonlight. "Every place has its shadows, Your Grace. One only needs to learn where to look," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

She lifted her gaze, meeting his eyes again with a shy smile. "And how to stand in the light."

Aemond's expression softened, his eyes lingering on her with an intensity that spoke of admiration and something deeper. "Well said," he murmured. "I believe you'll do well here, Lyria."

As he prepared to leave, he paused and looked back at her, a tender smile playing on his lips. "Do take care," he said softly. "The game here is played on many levels, and not all players are as open as they seem."

With a final nod, Aemond turned and walked away, leaving Lyria alone once more with her thoughts. His words echoed in her mind, another reminder of the now complex game she now found herself entangled.

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