#rhys 007

ravella stood at the door to rhys's chambers, her heart pounding in her chest, her mind still whirling from her conversation with queen katherine serrett. the silence in the corridor was almost too much to bear, and yet it was a silence she welcomed—it allowed her thoughts to gather, to crystallise into the questions that would not leave her. guinevere lannister. that woman’s name twisted itself into her thoughts, like a snake curling around her spine. she knew guinevere had spoken to rhys. she could feel it, the pull between them that threatened to unravel everything.

"if there is a whore in here somewhere, fix it." she uttered, her hands still resting upon the doorknob; her gaze did not move around the room to check or verify, though she felt her chest tighten beneath the corset she still wore.

why had rhys allowed the conversation? did he know the weight of his actions? did he understand how much was at stake? no, she could not allow herself to wait any longer. she had to confront him. she had to make him see—make him confess. taking a deep breath, ravella pushed open the door. her brother was sitting at the edge of his bed, the dim candlelight casting shadows across his face. he looked younger than he ought to, though the weight of the world always seemed to hang heavier on her shoulders than his. she barely noticed the way his hair fell messily around his face, or how his dark eyes flicked up to meet hers.

no, all that mattered was the question, the accusation that burned in her chest. "so," she began, her voice smooth, quiet, but sharper than it needed to be, "guinevere lannister spoke to you, didn’t she?" she took a step forward, standing just within the threshold, her icy gaze never leaving his. there was something in the way he held himself that made her stomach churn. the calmness, the way he looked at her as if he already knew.

“i know she did,” she continued, her voice taking on an edge, a quiet venom that made her own pulse race. “i felt it when you came back to dinner —did you think i wouldn’t notice? or perhaps you hoped i wouldn’t? what did she want?"

her fingers clenched at her sides, her nails pressing into her palms as she fought to keep her composure. the words poured out, unbidden, yet desperate, as though the air itself was too thick with tension to breathe. “you should never have listened to her,” she said softly, but the undercurrent of command in her tone was unmistakable. and yet, perhaps it were the ghostly presence she had in the candlelight, or the way in which her hair hung down her back - she looked as though she were completely undone. “do you understand what you’ve done?” she stepped closer, her bare feet brushing against the cool floor, the thin nightgown clinging to her form in the dim light, making her presence seem more vulnerable than she’d like to admit.

"you've given her an opening." she appeared almost ghostly, paired with the pale tint in her face as she hissed, moving forward into the candlelight as she leaned down to where rhys sat and looked upon her.

“she cannot be trusted, rhys,” she murmured, her voice softer now, coaxing, drawing him in. almost as though he were nothing but a mere babe in the cradle; she never cradled him, even when they were children - but there had been a time where rhys had been her baby. none others, hers. “you know that - you know the truth. the truth i’ve been fighting to keep alive. and yet, you let her speak to you, let her—” she bit back the words, swallowing down the bitterness threatening to spill over. “do you know what this means for me?” she added, her voice low, trembling with the weight of what she was about to say. “if you’ve sided with her, if you believe her lies... do you realise how much is at stake? for you... for me... for everything.”