Chapter 43: The Wind Rises in King’s Landing

"Ser, do you have any trusted helpers?" Rhaegar asked, his mind racing with the idea of enlisting help.

Erryk nodded, "My brother, Arryk. We share an unbreakable bond of trust."

"Summon him. We need his help."

"Your Grace, he currently serves as Prince Aegon's guardian. If the queen were to discover..." Erryk trailed off, concern in his voice.

"Then we must proceed carefully to avoid detection."

With the urgency pressing upon him, Rhaegar had no time for delay.

"Ser, accompany me to Rhaenyra's chambers and then seek out Arryk."

"As you command, Prince."

Though unsure of Rhaegar's intentions, Erryk chose to stand by him, lending his support without hesitation.

...

Outside Rhaenyra's quarters, Cole stood guard on night duty.

When he saw Erryk approaching with Rhaegar in tow, Cole's brow furrowed in confusion. "Your Grace, why are you here at this late hour?"

"I had a nightmare and wanted to speak to my sister," Rhaegar feigned distress.

Cole hesitated for a moment. "The princess has just retired, I fear..."

"Ser Cole, Rhaenyra is my sister. She will want to see me," Rhaegar interjected firmly, catching Cole off guard.

"Open the door and allow me to enter," his tone was now commanding, directed not at Cole but at Erryk beneath him.

Erryk moved to comply, prompting Cole's feeble attempt to intervene, only to be brushed aside.

Rhaegar's reputation hung in the balance; insistent on seeing Rhaenyra, Cole could not stop him.

With a swift entrance, the door closed behind them before Cole could examine further.

Erryk gently laid Rhaegar on the empty soft bed while he took an empty package and a piece of parchment with a drawn map from the nearby table.

Examining it closely, Rhaegar surveyed the scattered robes on the floor, confirming Rhaenyra's covert departure.

Passing the parchment to Erryk, Rhaegar instructed, "Execute the plan as I have outlined it. When you find Rhaenyra, retreat through the secret passage indicated here."

"Will there be significant consequences to following this plan?" Erryk voiced his reservations after hearing Rhaegar's strategy on the way.

"Ser, my sister is heir to the Iron Throne. For her honor, small sacrifices need not be considered," Rhaegar asserted, his hand clasped tightly over his heart. "Whatever the consequences, I alone will bear them."

Erryk's resolve hardened as he remembered past encounters with the White Hart. "I vow to ensure the princess's safe return!"

Under Rhaegar's unwavering gaze, Erryk turned and left the room.

Before closing the door, Erryk positioned himself to block Cole's view and gave a pointed order, "Ensure that the prince's nocturnal conversation with the princess remains undisturbed. Do your duty."

As a newly appointed member of the Kingsguard, Cole held Erryk in high regard and nodded in recognition.

With purposeful strides, Erryk left.

...

Silk Street.

Rhaenyra darted through the bustling crowd, relishing the rare moment of solitude amidst the hustle and bustle.

Occasionally, she would accidentally knock over the wares of hapless vendors, her laughter ringing out as if in play.

Daemon kept a close watch, effortlessly thwarting any pursuers in her wake.

Thump.

Rhaenyra collided with a figure clad in gold robes as she dashed into a dimly lit alley, paying little heed to her surroundings.

The gold-robed man grabbed her small arm, his voice deep with accusation. "What mischief drove you to flee in such haste?"

Recognizing the man beneath the helm, Rhaenyra called out his name. "Ser Harwin!"

"Princess?"

Stunned by the sudden encounter, Harwin hesitantly glanced toward the entrance to the alley.

There, Daemon, having caught up with him, approached leisurely.

Seeing her uncle, Rhaenyra pleaded with Harwin, "Please don't."

After a moment's thought, Harwin surmised that it was the uncle and nephew who had embarked on a clandestine adventure.

Releasing his grip on Rhaenyra's hand, he feigned ignorance. "Take care, young one. You may not always be so lucky."

With that, he resumed his patrol as if nothing had happened, brushing past Daemon as he went.

Daemon merely smiled, indifferent to the minor inconvenience.

Before his dismissal as commander of the City Watch, every man in the golden robes had been under his command, loyal to a fault.

"Now that your reckless escapade is over, do you find it pleasant?" Daemon fell in step beside Rhaenyra.

"Who knows when I'll have another taste of freedom," Rhaenyra sighed softly, the intoxication obviously having eased her tension.

Uncle and niece talked as they walked.

As they walked, Rhaenyra's senses tingled with unease.

The lively merchants and jugglers began to fade, replaced by the unmistakable sounds of debauchery.

Daemon led her to an unfamiliar stone building, the cacophony emanating from within growing louder.

Crossing the threshold, the overwhelming scent of drunken revelry and disorder assaulted her nostrils.

Inside, men were carousing, their laughter coarse and lewd, fueled by drink and merriment.

Unclothed women moved about without inhibition, inviting touches and casting sultry glances, their laughter tinged with seduction.

Stunned, Rhaenyra stood frozen, allowing Daemon to lead her further into the debauched atmosphere, her eyes darting around the salacious scene in disbelief.

Rhaenyra found herself in an unfamiliar and unsettling environment, surrounded by sights and sounds that clashed with her upbringing and values.

"What is this place?" she asked, her voice tinged with caution as she surveyed her surroundings.

Daemon's answer was indifferent. "A place where people come to get their needs met."

Rhaenyra's shock quickly turned to indignation. "Are you mad, how dare you bring me here?" she snapped.

Rhaenyra's face stiffened, her features betraying her discomfort as she watched the provocative scene unfold before her.

She glanced nervously at her uncle, unable to ignore the lustful gleam in his eyes that sent a shiver down her spine.

A sense of foreboding washed over Rhaenyra, causing her to subtly assess her surroundings and consider her options. With a quick glance towards the door, she entertained the idea of escaping, realizing that she still had a chance to escape the uncomfortable situation.

...

Meanwhile, in a secluded corner of the brothel, two figures dressed in black watched as Daemon led Rhaenyra inside.

"Go ahead, I'll handle things here," one of the black cloaked figures said solemnly, his expression stern under his hood.

"Remember, the bigger the commotion, the better. We must protect the princess's reputation with the utmost precision," the other figure, identical in appearance, asserted. It was none other than Erryk, who had quickly sprung into action.

Arryk moved with agility, quickly scaling the walls of the brothel and igniting flames as he made his way through the kitchen, the horse corridor, and beyond. The brothers' synchronization was flawless, each performing his task with precision.

Entering the brothel's main hall, Erryk navigated silently, deftly avoiding the provocative advances of the girls lining the perimeter as he made his way to the darkened alcove within.

Parting the gauzy curtains, Erryk caught sight of his target for the night.

At that moment, Daemon cornered Rhaenyra, his posture menacing as he approached her.

Rhaenyra pressed against him, terror etched into her face.

Just in the nick of time, Erryk sprang into action, quickly intervening by grabbing Daemon's shoulder and delivering a powerful left hook to his face.

Daemon staggered, unable to retaliate, and collapsed to the ground, dazed.

The sudden turn of events jolted Rhaenyra into action, and she broke free of Daemon's grasp.

"Princess, come with me at once," Erryk urged, tossing Rhaenyra the discarded black robe and leading her away without a word.

As they fled, Erryk cast a disdainful glance at Daemon before delivering a final, contemptuous kick between his legs.

With a resounding thud, Daemon let out a scream of pain and doubled over in agony.

(Word count: 1278)