art longa, vita brevis

Mine was buried even deeper, under Devices -> Typing -> How AI has helped you.

Chapter Nine - A Quiet Time

“I could never think you unkind, milord, and I don’t believe your son could either.” 

Prince Baelor hummed, looking at her with a peculiar light in his eyes. “I fear you hold me in too high a regard, Maeve.”

She could not help the small smile at the sound of her name still. “Perhaps you ought to be better at disappointing me then.”

It had been meant in jest, mostly, she thought, but his gaze shifted in a way that made her feel too seen in that moment, and she found she could not hold it. She turned her eyes to the map and hid there like the coward she was.

Chapter Eight - The Great and the Small

“You were thinking of him, weren’t you?”

Maeve sighed, wondering if she was always so obvious. “What makes you believe that?”

“Because he’s the only one you can’t talk about,” Enith replied, her voice distant, but not unkind. It was understanding that she’d brought with her, not confrontation. “You can talk with the others about missing the library and your books and even that little slope, but once you mention a man, everything changes. People stop being sympathetic. Now they’re just curious, and suddenly all your pain becomes a game to them.”

Chapter Three - Youth and Innocence

“Do you really mean to ride out now?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at the weather and willing it to cease. Men and horses both had died under far safer conditions. 

“My sons are out there,” Maekar replied. His voice carried more emotion than intended. The waver in it squeezed her heart.

“They’re hiding in an inn, Maekar.”

“You don’t know that,” he continued, facing her fully for the first time. She could see why he had avoided her gaze. Every fear was on display for her, every possibility, every horror, every terrible outcome that might befall two missing princes. “Daeron could have fallen drunk off his horse. Even if he just fell off a fucking table, that would leave Aegon alone. He is nine, Rhaenys, and he-”

“Is too much trouble for a boy his size, I believe were your words,” she said with a soft smile.

Linda: What the hell is everyone looking at me for? Louise: [coughs] Because you have road rage.

Chapter Seven - A Debt Owed

There was a dull ringing in Baelor’s ears. It reminded him of Redgrass, when a shield bearing that cursed black dragon slammed into his helm and the world was set dangerously askew. Direction had no meaning, and every scrap of knowledge and refinement fled, giving way to something primitive, an instinct to survive no matter the cost. He was not a prince then, or even a man, simply flesh and bone filled with volatile purpose.

It was strange to experience it again in the calm of the library, but it would not occur to Baelor until long after he had left. 

“What’s happened to her?” he asked quietly.