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the sitting room was warm with late afternoon light. calla sat near the window, harp tucked lightly against her shoulder as her fingers moved across the strings. she played softly, enough for the king to hear but not enough to draw every eye in the room.
viserys listened with an easy smile, hands folded over his lap. queen alicent sat stiffly beside him, gaze wandering elsewhere. she barely seemed to hear the music. her eyes kept flicking across the room toward aemond, as if asking silently where aegon had disappeared to this time.
lord alester sat in his own chair a little apart from them, speaking steadily to viserys about crops, trade, something calla had stopped listening to long ago. alicent nodded here and there, though her attention was still locked on her son.
uther and ada were opposite. uther looked half interested, half bored. ada looked neither. she gazed around the room, focusing on nothing in particular, her mind elsewhere.
when lord alester said, proud as anything, "my calla has always had a gift for music," ada muttered under her breath, "she has a gift for reminding everyone." uther shot her a look, confused why she even bothered saying it.
calla pretended she had heard nothing.
the doors opened. aegon strolled in, hair mussed, posture loose like he had been somewhere he should not have been. alicent straightened instantly.
"where were you," she asked, voice low but sharp.
"hello mother" he said sarcastically "walking, the reach is new to me. i was exploring. the fields are... intriguing."
aemond let out a quiet laugh.
alicent narrowed her eyes but did not press him. viserys, still listening to lord alester talk about shipments of wool, barely looked up.
aegon’s attention shifted to calla. he walked toward her slowly, listening. she kept playing until the end of the tune, letting the final note fade before turning around.
"i did not know you played," aegon said.
"i do," calla replied, keeping her tone even, and half interested.
"you did not seem the quiet type," he said. "not after the other night."
"uther was making faces," calla said. "anyone would have laughed."
"aemond did not."
"i said anyone," she countered. aegon smiled, just a little.
calla shifted awkwardly, "did you enjoy exploring," she asked, polite but distant.
"i would have enjoyed it more if your courtyard was not so strict about ownership." her eyes narrowed a fraction. "i never said you could not sit there."
"you did not have to," aegon said. "you looked at us like we’d stolen something."
"i like quiet," calla said simply. "and i do not," he answered.
for a moment they just looked at each other, neither fully annoyed, neither fully at ease.
"well," calla said finally, sitting a little straighter, "if you’ll excuse me, i should return this harp before my father decides to boast again."
"a tragedy," aegon said lightly. "i was just beginning to enjoy the view."
calla blinked at him, unsure if that was meant as teasing or something else.
she stood anyway.
aegon stepped aside to let her pass, watching her go with a faint, thoughtful expression.
the courtyard was glowing gold in the late afternoon. servants busied themselves around the wheelhouse, but most of the household stood gathered near the steps.
lord alester walked with viserys at an unhurried pace, the king leaning a little heavier on his cane than usual. alester bowed his head respectfully.
“you honour bloomfield with your visit, your grace,” he said.
viserys waved a soft hand as if brushing off formality “i honour old friendships, not stones and walls.”
alesters smile was small but real. “even so… its not often you find the king in a reachmans sitting room.”
“and perhaps that’s why i’m enjoying it,” viserys said, a soft laugh escaping him. “a welcome change from the endless business"
they laughed like two men remembering their youth. then viserys leaned in a little, lowering his voice so only alester could hear.
“alester… i’ve been thinking.” his tone gentled further. “i need a lord of coin who won’t steal half the treasury while i’m not looking.”
alester blinked. “is that meant as praise?”
“it’s meant as a burden,” viserys said, quiet but clear. “and i trust you to carry it. think on it. give me your answer at highgarden.” alester’s brows pulled, surprised but not displeased.
“you ask a great deal, viserys.”
“i only ask of those who can bear it,” the king murmured.
they stepped apart as if nothing secret had passed between them.
behind them, calla stood with uther and ada, observing the bustle with a mixture of boredom and unease. the courtyard, usually quiet, felt invaded. even the air sounded different with the royal guards moving about, their boots echoing off the stone.
uther went ahead to say his farewells, clapping aegon on the back like they were old friends already. aegon returned it with a grin.
ada followed, dipping her head politely though her eyes were elsewhere.
calla lingered a moment longer. her father would scold her for hesitating, but she couldn’t help it. she was tired her home feeling like someone elses.
still… manners.
she approached the princes, smoothed her skirts, and dipped into a curtsey. “my princes.”
aegon gave something like a bow, though it was lazy at best, more a nod than anything. “lady calla.” he said. aemond simply inclined his head, stiff and tired.
calla rose, hands clasped in front of her. aegon looked at her with that faint, curious expression he kept getting around her, like he was trying to decide if she was amusing or strange or both.
“you looked very serious over there,” aegon said. “were you judging us?”
“i was not judging anyone,” she replied quickly.
“mm” aegon hummed, doubtful. she glanced away, cheeks warming. “i was only thinking.”
“about?”
“highgarden,” she said. “...and the feast.” aegon made a face. “you don’t want to go.” it wasn’t even a question.
“not particularly,” she admitted.
a small grin tugged his mouth. “good. at least i’m not the only one suffering.”
aemond sighed deeply, arms crossed. “must you complain at every opportunity?”
“yes,” aegon said simply, “i must.”
calla held back a smile, but it slipped out anyway. aegon noticed immediately, his eyes brightening like a puppy who’d accidentally pleased someone.
“see? she agrees with me,” aegon said.
“i didn’t say that,” calla replied, trying not to laugh again.
“you didn’t have to.”
aemond rolled his eyes so hard it looked like it hurt. “can we leave? the sooner we reach highgarden, the sooner we can return home.”
“you sound like an old man already,” aegon muttered.
“and you sound like a child.” calla lowered her gaze politely so they wouldn’t see her amusement.
aegon changed the subject, leaning slightly toward her. “have you ever been to highgarden?”
“once,” she said.
“it can’t be that terrible.”
she hesitated, then shrugged, making up some excuse. “i found it overwhelming.” “ah” aegon said, nodding seriously for a moment. “then it truly is terrible.”
that earned a quiet breath of laughter from her. her shoulders loosened without her noticing.
aemond cleared his throat as if offended by the growing friendliness. “we’re leaving.”
the king was helped into the wheelhouse first. alicent followed with a slow, graceful step, her expression softened by fatigue. aemond climbed in after her. aegon lingered, and then followed in, taking his seat.
viserys began speaking about the pleasant road and the clear skies, though no one seemed to be paying attention. the wheelhouse door shut, and the horses pulled the carriage forward.
aegon turned in his seat at the last moment, looking back through the window as the flores family began to return indoors.
“highgarden,” viserys said somewhere in the middle of his rambling, and that single word made aegon snap his head around. he gave a quick nod, pretending he’d been listening the whole time.
the wheelhouse carried them down the kingsroad, headed for highgarden, and bloomfield slowly fell into the distance behind them.
calla stood still while her maid olive tied the last pull of her corset. she tugged with practiced hands. “hold your breath,” olive muttered.
calla did. the cord tightened. she exhaled sharply.
“seven help me,” she grumbled, “if my father wants me fainting at his table, hes well on his way.”
olive smirked. “you’ll live. you’ve dealt with worse.”
“hm” calla said, pulling her hair over one shoulder. “i suppose.”
olive hesitated, then asked, “is it true they’re… odd? the royal boys?”
calla gave a dry look. “odd’s a gentle word.”
“go on,” olive pushed, grinning.
“i’ve only heard things,” calla said, twisting the ties of her sleeves. “that prince aegon drinks too much… prince aemond is… well, unsettling… the queen has a tongue sharper than a carving knife.” she shrugged. “and the king is ill.”
olive crossed her arms. “and we’re feeding them?”
“apparently so.”
“well,” olive said, patting calla’s shoulder, “smile pretty. maybe they’ll forget to be strange.”
“i doubt it,” calla murmured, stepping out into the corridor.
the walk through the courtyard was cool, the stone holding onto the last bit of evening warmth. calla paused at the doors when she saw the table inside.
only one empty chair left. right next to uther. and directly across from prince aegon.
she pulled a face so obvious it made uther snort before she even sat down.
“cheer up,” uther whispered as she took her seat. “you look like you’re being marched to execution.”
she blinked, startled he’d heard her. “just… unexpected, my prince”
“mm,” he said, almost smiling.
she had no idea what to say to that and reached for her water instead.
across the table, ada leaned forward, chin propped on her hand, voice low as she spoke to prince aemond. her laugh was soft, practiced. uther’s face soured immediately.
calla elbowed him. “stop glaring. she’s your betrothed, not your property.”
“she’s flirting,” he whispered back.
“she flirts with the stable boy,” calla muttered. “thats just ada.”
“i didn’t ask for this life,” uther grumbled. “why couldnt i marry someone dull?”
“because dull women wont have you,” calla said dryly.
uther choked on a laugh. aegon glanced at them, eyebrows raised in mild curiosity.
aemond, meanwhile, did not seem to know what to do with ada’s attention. he stiffened when she touched his arm, gave a strangled “hm,” and angled his body away as subtly as possible.
it was not subtle.
aegon saw it and burst into a quiet laugh that he tried to hide behind his cup. uther snorted loudly. calla pressed her lips together, trying, failing, and then she let out a little laugh of her own.
aegon looked at her when she did, properly looked, something warm flickering in his expression.
“i thought you’d be the sensible one,” he said.
“i am,” calla replied. “usually.”
“good to know,” aegon murmured, tapping the rim of his cup with a fingertip. “and what terrible rumours have reached bloomfield about me?”
calla froze. uther grinned wickedly.
“don’t,” she muttered.
“no, no, do,” aegon said, leaning forward, eyes bright with genuine interest. “i want to hear.”
calla inhaled slowly. “just…. that you enjoy wine. and… mischief.”
“i like her wording,” aegon shot back. calla felt heat rise to her cheeks.
aemond, done with ada’s relentless flirting, cut in: “brother, you sound bored.”
“i’m enjoying myself,” aegon said lightly, still watching calla. “can’t you tell?” aemond’s eye flicked to calla, then to uther, then back to his plate. “i see nothing of note.”
“that’s because you focus too hard,” aegon said. uther muttered, “and because he’s miserable.”
aemond’s head snapped up, glare sharp. uther immediately straightened, lips pressed tight. calla kicked him under the table.
the conversation broke into small pieces after that. king viserys and alester speaking warmly at one end, queen alicent making soft conversation with callas aunt sable, and ada still trying to charm a brick wall known as prince aemond.
calla kept her eyes mostly on her plate, though once or twice they drifted up, meeting aegon’s.
he didn’t look away quickly.
that unsettled her more than she cared to admit.
calla slipped out onto her balcony once the feast was finally over. her head felt too full, her dress too tight, the whole hall too loud. the night air was quieter. usually.
she leaned over the railing and looked down into the courtyard.
uther and aegon were there. of course they were. sat in the grass near the old well, leaning back on their hands. uther was laughing at something, loud enough that it echoed off the stone. aegon said something back,picking at the grass beside his boot.
calla’s face tightened.
"they’re in my spot."not literally, but close enough.
she stood there for a moment, hoping they’d get up, or move, or at least quiet down. they didn’t. if anything, they got louder.
fine.
she headed down the stairs anyway, her steps light but quick.
halfway down, uther looked up, he always noticed everything first, and nudged aegon with his elbow. he pointed at her like she was something funny.
aegon glanced over. just a short look. then he went straight back to talking.
calla’s mouth pressed into a flat line. she didn’t know why that bothered her, but it did.
she didn’t go to them. she had no intention of that. instead she slipped across the courtyard to the stone bench tucked beneath the old tree, the place she always sat when she needed quiet, when she needed to think about her mother without the rest of the world in the way.
she lowered herself onto it, smoothing her skirts with an annoyed flick. the grass was damp, the air soft, and all she could hear was uther snorting at one of aegon’s jokes.
brilliant.
ruined.
absolutely ruined.
aegon said something louder, uther nearly choked laughing, and calla closed her eyes, pressing her head back against the stone wall.
she used to love this courtyard at night. it had always felt like hers. quiet. now it felt like someone had dragged noise and trouble straight into the center of it and refused to leave.
she curled one leg up onto the bench, resting her arm around it, trying to block them out. tried thinking of her mother instead, but even that was difficult with aegon’s loud voice.
she let out a sharp exhale, not really a sigh, more like a sound of pure frustration. they didn’t hear her. and somehow that made it worse.
she stared down at the stones beneath her feet, jaw tight, wishing, just for a momment, that bloomfield could go back to the way it was yesterday.
quiet. familiar. before a prince sat laughing in her courtyard like he belonged there.
the royal wheelhouse rattled along the kingsroad. inside, sat the king, his wife and two sons. king viserys sat forward, eyes dim but awake. aegon lounged beside the window with his chin on his fist, half asleep, while aemond sat straight as a drawn blade, trying not to look bored.
viserys began without anyone asking, his fifth history lesson of the long journey.
“bloomfield wasn’t always a hall and banners,” viserys said. “it started with a stable boy. alistar flowers. no name, no land. one day he saved lord tyrell’s son in battle. almost died doing it. aegon the conqueror called it loyalty and gave him these lands. flowers became flores. bloomfield began.”
aemond’s mouth drew tight. “so the son of a no one?” he muttered as he diverted his eyes to the window.
viserys smiled like he had heard that argument too many times. “a no one whom was still raised. names matter, but so does loyalty.”
aegon shifted in his seat. “so we stop because some stable boy was brave a century ago?” he murmured, bored rather than mocking.
“we stop,” viserys said, “because we are bound for highgarden in a few days time, and i would see an old friend while i still may.” he pauses “lord alester squired for me in my youth. he was kind, fiercely loyal, just like his ancestor. i intend to repay that in presence, not letters.”
the carriage slowed. hooves shuffled. voices murmured outside. aegon leaned to the window and saw the small hall ahead, stone pale under the sun, a banner of yellow and green hung from the gate. the guards stepped down from the wheelhouse first.
beyond the wheelhouse stood lord alester flores, blonde sun softened with age, and beside him stood his sister ada flores, and late wifes nephew uther redwyne, young, bright red hair reflecting the sun. they had clearly been waiting a while.
lord alester flores looked around “where in the seven is calla…”
uther lifted both hands. “uncle i swear she was beside me moments ago. i think she heard hooves and bolted. she has not the grace of timing.”
alester huffed but there was affection in it. "any day but this one” uther grinned a little. “aunt corenne would be laughing herself sick.”
“aye,” alester breathed, voice low and warm with old pain.
the carriage door opened. viserys stepped down first with the slow care of a man whose bones had grown tired too soon. aegon followed, young and handsome but half uninterested, while aemond moved like he belonged wherever his feet landed, chin tilted just enough to show he measured everything.
alester bowed deep. “your grace. welcome to bloomfield.” uther followed in greeting.
“it is good to see you again,” viserys said, breaking formality as he clasped alesters hand. “It has been far too long.”
alester was taken aback, but his jaw eased. “it has, your grace. bloomfield is honoured.”
viserys looked to uther. “your son?”
alester’s smile faltered slightly. “my nephew, your grace. my daughter is… delayed.”
a moment of silence, then the great doors behind them opened and she ran out into the light.
calla flores, fourteen and flushed, like she'd only just remembered royalty was arriving. her golden hair was tangled,and her gown slightly askew like she had dressed in a hurry. she hesitated when she saw the royal party, then gathered herself and descended the short steps, trying to appear graceful though her hands trembled.
she moved next to her father and cousin, then curtseyed low, too quickly, almost losing her balance. her fathers eyes flickered with disappointment, though he tried to hide it. uther, on the other hand, couldnt help but smile.
“welcome, your graces,” she said, voice soft but steady enough. “my apolagies.. i seemed to have lost track of time" she quickly said, making up an excuse.
her eyes jumped to prince aegons by accident rather than intention.
just for a moment.
he blinked, surprised, and looked away. but something flickered between them, and he wondered why he felt so drawn to her.
to hide her burning cheeks, calla stepped forward and took king viserys’ hand, bowing her head to it. she kissed his knuckles with a trembling grace she hoped looked natural, though her heart felt like it might fall out of her chest.
viserys smiled down at her, almost grandfatherly.
aemond watched her with cautious eyes. aaegon looked away as if the horses were suddenly fascinating.
calla stepped back into place between her kin.
aegon let out a slow breath he didn’t mean to make.
she tried not to look at him again.
the moment passed, simple, smal. but neither of them quite forgot it as the party moved inside.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
