CHAPTER TWELVE
❛the truth always comes out.❜

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EARLY 130 AC ⸻ Kings Landing ⸻

Lyria was restless.

Ever since Aemond had cornered her by professing possible lies, Lyria had to know the truth. Knowing she couldn't yet bring this information to Basalia before it's been proven or not, she went to the next best person: Jahaena.

"What are we looking for, exactly?" Jahaena questioned.

For a moment, Lyria faced internal conflict. It was a strange feeling as she was usually sure of herself, but these were strange tides she was charting.

"Anything you can find on House Valen."

Jahaena stopped with confusion, "House Valen? Why are we searching for answers that burned with their house."

Lyria shrugged, knowing she couldn't bring up a moment with Aemond alone. "I have a . . . hunch."

Jahaena wasn't one to question her friend, she only continued to look through the large cases filled with books. The library in King's Landing would put their library in the Riverlands to shame.

"Ahh!" Lyria grinned successfully, pulling a book from its proper place. "House Valen."

Jahaena peered over the shelf, watching Lyria sit down with a rather small book. "There must be more, correct?" Jahaena questioned, glancing at her shelf once more. Families usually had a larger book or multiple.

"Never you mind," Lyria waved, excited to have found anything in the first place. "Let us tackle one first."

Jahaena nodded, making her way over to sit beside Lyria at the stone table. She eyed Lyria suspiciously, knowing there was more behind this. Lyria wouldn't be so interested out of the blue in a family that held more whispers than people.

As Lyria laid the open book out before them, she began to scan the pages.

"House Valen . . . of Blackthorn." The girls shared a look. Jahaena's father had told them small stories of this house, but never in great detail as most of the stories died with them.

"Blackthorn is located in the heart of the Stormlands." Jahaena added.

Lyria nodded, reading more. "House to Lord Lyonel Valen, husband of Lady Isolde Valen. The Heir Ser Renly Valen and his sisters Lady Mirielle and Lady Lyanna."

"They were an entire family." Jahaena noted, a hint of sadness laced in her words as she knew their ending.

"Let's see... House Valen held very wise and loyal people. They seemed to be a loving family . . ." Lyria skimmed the pages, wanting to know the truth of what happened.

"House Valen was attacked by a group of rival houses who wanted to eliminate their influence in the Stormlands. They murdered every member of the family, and many villagers." Lyria's throat hitched as Jahaena unknowingly placed a hand of comfort on her back. "That was before they burned their house to the ground, ultimately destroying it."

"That's awful." Jahaena added.

Lyria nodded, "They were just children."

Jahaena could easily see the toll this was taking on Lyria. Before she could speak, Lyria beat her to it. "It says that one of the children's bodies was never located."

Jahaena's eyebrows furrowed, looking over Lyria's shoulders to read as well.

"Lyria—" A gasp left Jahaena's lips, "The date. Look at the date."

Lyria looked down at the book— at the date of the attack. It was precisely two days before she ended up in the care of the Blackwoods.

"Lyria— why are we looking this up?" Jahaena fixed her posture. "What are you on about?"

Lyria stood, closing the book tightly to her chest.

"You are not saying . . . " Jahaena took a step back, trying to add the information up to make sense in her head.

"You are no handmaiden," Jahaena finally concluded. "You are a Lady!"

Lyria instantly shushed her, "I just found this out. We mustn't tell a soul. Not now." She took one step closer.

Jahaena nodded, "You're right. You must tell Basalia first."

Jahaena and Lyria bid each other a farewell as Lyria made a bee line to find Aemond. The book remained with Jahaena, for safe keeping.

Lyria could not find him anywhere. It was as if everyone in the castle had disappeared... How odd, she thought. No one was lurking about, no laughter was heard. It was dead silent.

Deciding she must meet Aemond in his quarters, Lyria rounded the corner just before running directly into someone. Lyria lost her footing and fell backwards, only for the person to catch her in their grasp.

"We must stop meeting like this." Aemond snickered, letting her stand tall without his help once more.

Lyria straightened her dress, giving him a soft smile of thanks. "Where is everyone?"

Aemond avoided her question, "Why are you lurking about?"

Lyria took his appearance in. He seemed stressed— anxious, perhaps. His usual kept hair now had strands framing his face. He wore a cloak on his back as if he were going out— or coming home.

"I was looking for you."

"Didn't get enough of me the other day?" Aemond wore the same smirk as his voice was laced with lust.

It was now Lyria's turn to avoid his question. "You were right."

This peaked Aemond's curiosity, his left eyebrow rose. "About?"

"House Valen." Lyria answered, "All of it."

"Am I ever wrong? You are a Lady. I told you." Aemond took a step closer, "Now let us scrap that handmaiden nonsense," he lifted his hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, "and let's enjoy this moment."

Lyria shook her head, "You are betrothed to my sister."

"You know how I feel about that." Aemond's voice was low as his eyes darted around the hall.

Usually he would further his attempt to kiss her, but he seemed distraught. "You must go to your room. I have business to tend to."

Lyria's eyebrows furrowed, a ping of sadness in her gut. "Yes, my prince."

As she made her way back to her room, she had never been more confused than she was at that moment. She was hardly ever unsure of herself, this feeling was foreign to her. She hated it. All she knew was that in the morning she had to go to the one person who could make it all better.

⸻

Once the sun rose and Lyria had prepared herself for the day, she decided to skip breakfast so she could visit with Basalia.

"Ser Leon." Lyria greeted, "I seek Basalia's council. Is she awake?"

Ser Leon nodded, opening the door for Lyria to enter. She gave a small smile to Basalia who had been looking over her outfit in the mirror.

Basalia turned to Lyria. "I must tell you something. I can't keep a secret from my sister."

Lyria's eyebrows furrowed, "Alright . . ." Could she know?

"Remember on my tenth nameday, we were looking out at the stars." Basalia began, hoping to gain a little more confidence than she had.

Lyria nodded, "You asked me what love was, and I said I didn't know. To which, you agreed. Then, I said that love was whatever we shared."

Basalia nodded, "Yes, I love you so much that it hurts me at times." She chuckled, facing Lyria. "I believe that I have found another love. A true love, perhaps."

Lyria's breath caught in her throat, "Aemond?"

"Oh, heavens no." Basalia denied with a soft smile, "Ser Leon."

Lyria said nothing. Her mind went blank. This was forbidden. Basalia was to be married.

"I gave him my maidenhood." It came out soft— ashamed, possibly? Not ashamed that she did it, but ashamed that she was admitting it.

Lyria's posture went rigid, her expression hard as she faced Basalia, who looked back at her, a mixture of apology and confusion in her eyes.

"What were you thinking, Basalia?" Lyria's voice was sharp, her words cutting through the tense air. "What if someone else had walked through that door? It could ruin everything for you." Giving her no time to reply, Lyria continued on. "A baby. You could have a baby. It would not have Targaryen hair! It is forbidden! He could be hung— You will be hung!"

Basalia's heart sank at the rebuke, the reality of the situation settling over her like a heavy cloak. She knew Lyria was right; if someone else had walked through that door, it could have been disastrous. Leon could be killed for it and possibly Basalia too.

"I know," she whispered, her voice trembling, "I was stupid, but I... I think I like him. A lot." Admitting her feelings aloud, Basalia felt a wave of fear mixed with a strange relief. "I'm scared, Lyria. I don't want to be trapped in a loveless marriage."

At that, tears began to slip down Basalia's cheeks, her emotional defences crumbling under the weight of her own words. She sank down onto the edge of her bed, her body shaking with quiet sobs.

Lyria's expression softened as she watched her friend break down. All thoughts of anger faded, replaced by a deep, empathetic concern. She moved closer to Basalia, sitting beside her on the bed. Gently, she wrapped an arm around her, pulling her in to cradle her against her chest.

"It doesn't matter," Lyria murmured softly in response to Basalia's earlier admission of her fears. Her voice was soothing, a vast difference to her earlier coldness.

"We'll think of something. I'm sorry for yelling at you as I did Lia, it was just shocking to see such acts."
As they sat together, Lyria couldn't help but feel a twisted relief. Knowing Basalia's heart lay elsewhere made her own conflicted feelings for Aemond seem less treacherous.

She stroked Basalia's hair, whispering words of comfort. "We'll find a way," she reassured her, "We always do."

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