Writing new chapter of Redamancy
I am always restless,” he admitted, “and with Laena’s death… I needed to clear my head,” and then his wife did something utterly unladylike, bringing one fist to her lips, “I imagine,” she muttered in a scoff, “and you just happened to fall into bed with Rhaenyra, I’d wager. Just an accident born of grief, was it not?”
He deserved that too, he would suppose, though it did not burn him less. Yet, how could she truly believe that… after all that had transpired between them in those thirteen years that he might just…
Lunacy.
Did she not carry the symbols of his passion atop her flesh any time they were alone for enough time?, did she not birth not one, but five children out of that passion? Granted, the prince of Bloodstone might have never said the words, might never say them at all, for he was unable to even fathom that kind of sentiment, possessing his every fiber; yet she could not truly believe that his blood cursing through her veins had been all for nothing, five times over.
Most noble families did not have more than one heir and a spare. Some not even that.
They had five children, and the prince loved each and any of them fiercely. Rhea had never birthed even the hope of a son. Alicent had given him four and a daughter besides.
“Are you perchance feeble of wit?”
