The Queen is dead and her best friend is angry.
Elowen Redfort, Queen Aemma's Lady-in-waiting and closest confidant is in the room when the queen is murdered. Driven by her grief Elowen finds herself in the King's chambers intending to confron...
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The next morning, Elowen had sulked in her bed for a moment longer than usual, not wishing to leave the warmth and safety the sheets offered in exchange for the cold awaiting her in the halls of the Red Keep. There was no pressing matter to attend to unless Rhaenyra called on her so Elowen resigned herself to spend her day in her chambers. Perhaps if she hid within the walls long enough she could forget that the King would announce his intent to wed Lady Laena any day, or she could ignore the churning of her stomach as she thought of how she had betrayed Aemma.
Elowen had done the unimaginable. She had fallen for her cousin's widower. She wasn't sure when it had happened or how, it had been sudden and gradual all at once, like falling asleep. All Elowen knew was that all of the sudden his laugh warmed her heart and she wished for nothing more than to trace the fine lines that deepened at the corner of his eyes when he smiled.
"My lady?"
Elowen turned to see Gretchel standing at the foot of her bed, her normally warm disposition drained from her face as she looked upon her lady. Ingrid hovered behind the younger girl, her hands clasped in front of her so tightly that her knuckles had begun to turn white.
"Is something the matter, Gretchel?" Elowen asked, worry and concern flooding her being. "Has something happened to Gwayne?"
"My brother is fine, my lady."
"Then what is wrong?"
Gretchel opened her mouth to speak but quickly closed it, thinking better. "The King demands your presence in the Small Council's meeting chambers."
"Whatever for?" Elowen questioned as she slipped from the sheets, moving towards Gretchel.
"We have been forbidden from telling you, my lady." Ingrid answered. "May we prepare you?"
Elowen merely nodded, not knowing what to say. Her body moved on its own, allowing Ingrid and Gretchel to dress her as her mind raced for some sort of answer as to why the King would need to speak to her before the Small Council.
★・・・・・・★
Elowen had never been inside the Small Council's meeting chambers, she had never passed the threshold. She had been more than happy to pass by the room on her way to see Aemma with no clue or care as to what was being discussed inside. And now Elowen stood beside the door as the Lords of the council exited the room. None paid her mind as they passed, too busy with their own conversations to offer her even a hint as to what awaited her.
"His Grace and the Hand are ready for you, my lady." Ser Harrold spoke, his eyes kind as he offered the frightened woman a comforting smile.
"Thank you, Ser." Elowen nodded to the Lord Commander of the King's Guard.
Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves Elowen entered the room, her eyes flitting around taking in all the details. King Viserys and his Hand, Otto Hightower, sat at the head of the grand table center of the room but quickly stood when she entered.
