Chapter ten          𓃦          Cruel faith

Rhaenyra and Daemon were aware of it - Aegon would never be an issue in the sake of inheritance. Her younger drunken fool of a brother never wanted the Throne, he seemed to do anything to distance himself from it. His twin, on the other hand, was his opposite.

So, to find Baelor sat atop the Iron Throne in the warm spring mor was not a different or an unusual thing. His fingers twisted the golden ring - a dragon and a lion - seemingly deep in thought. His boot clicked against the floor whenever his foot bounced, the curls of the Hightower hair falling on his forehead, tickling the skin. Genna, however, was not aware of his tactics. She stopped in the doorway of the Iron Throne room, her fingers grazing the yellow dress that covered her belly and with an uncertain voice, she called out, "Baelor?"

"It is a sick thing, is it not?" her husband replied, finally looking from the floor, "to have her parade around the Keep with those . . . plain sons of hers. Expecting us to bow our heads to her because she is father's daughter."

"I do not think it is right for you to be up there," Genna almost whispered, afraid anyone would see him at the high seat of thousands of swords, taking the few steps from the doorway, closing the doors behind her.

The sleeve of the dark green doublet was cut by one of the swords long times ago; he wasn't aware at what time he came here or how long he stayed there, "in truth, Genna."

She stopped at the first step that led up the chair, "I do not know what you expect me to say."

"The truth, Genna," he replied, two fingers wrapping around a sword's edge that tipped out of the side of the throne, "for once in your life speak the truth to me."

Her tongue poked the side of her cheek, a moment of silence washing over them, "the truth about what? You or princess Rhaenyra's children?"

He pressed the tip of his boot back on the floor, looking down at her, "about everything. I never once heard your opinion on matters."

Before she could reply, Baelor extended his arm, wiggling his fingers towards him, "come here, please."

Genna shook her head, "I do not think it would be wise, Baelor."

Baelor sighed, removing his hand from in front of him, "then what do you think it would be wise?"

"For you to not sit on it," she replied quickly.

"It will belong to me one day, will it not?" Baelor spoke with a rather bitter tone, "at least I can get used to it."

Genna looked over her shoulder at sounds of moving but the doors didn't open - she thanked the Seven for it. She turned her head back towards the tall chair, "the line for it is a long one."

"Not really," he replied, looking down at his fingers that played with the other ones.

Genna's brows furrowed, "but it is. It goes to princess Rhaenyra and all her-"

"The Throne does not belong to Rhaenyra first," Baelor cut her off, looking away from his fingers and to her.

"But she is the king's first born."

"And my brother is the king's first-born son."

Genna bit the inside of her cheek, letting out a shaky breath through her nose before speaking, "you asked for my opinion and my opinion you have."

Baelor leaned back against the Throne; a blade cutting the skin of his ribcage but he didn't let out a sound, "I thought you might share the same opinion as me."

"And I thought an opinion means something a person formed on its own," Genna bit back and her mother's words of be quiet, do not argue with your husband, washed over her and her eyes grew wide as a deer caught by the hunter, "apologies I did-"

Her words were cut short with a chuckle from Baelor, "no, no, do not apologize. You finally said something else rather than being a scared little girl."

In her defence, Genna Lannister was a little girl trying to fight a man's world. Baelor finally pulled himself off the Iron Throne and moved down the long, pointy staircase, taunting, "mayhaps the lion finally learnt something from the dragon."

She hated it; how small she felt in the sight of her husband descending from the Throne, even when he was in much more fragile state - blood from new cuts, red spots around old ones, tears in his doublet and pants. Genna bit her tongue, diverting her eyes, "mayhaps."

Baelor stopped in front of her, his palm pressing against the belly, "the babe?"

"Grand Maester says everything is going normally," she replied, eyes caught on the wrist of his hand - a burn.

Baelor hummed, watching his thumb make circles, "does he know if the babe is a boy or not?"

Genna shook her head, "he said the Maesters keep tracks on the calendar. But he did not say anything about it."

Another hum from Baelor before he removed his hand. His other hand went to Genna's cheek, pulling her so gently closer that he pressed his lips on the other cheek. Pulling away, he spoke, "I shall see him later."

He took a step back as if he was reminded who he was, "and I think you should not be present at the petition. To rest, I mean."

Genna nodded her head, "of course."

Baelor clasped his hand across her ever-growing belly once more before he disappeared like a ghost from her side once more. Her fingers ached to be twisted until blood speared from them, until she was a step away from meeting the final's day. Thoughts of death washed over Genna whenever her gaze landed on the Iron Throne. For she knew the cold truth - Baelor would not stop until he would be able to sit on it, ruling over the Seven Kingdoms and beyond.

With a shiver sliding down her spine, she turned on her feet and hurried out of the throne room, wanting to disappear in her chambers, the girls soon following once their studies are done. But, Genna never had much luck in the Keep.

The high pitch voice of Myna, calling her name brought her to a stop in the busy hallway of the Keep. Turning around, she was met with her - long brown, almost black, hair decorating her rosy cheeks, her fingers pressed together on the front of her dark green gown. She wore a smile, "my lady."

Genna cracked a knuckle, her other hand pressing itself against her bump, "lady Myna."

"I was wondering if mayhaps you have free time," she spoke gently, almost uncertain, "I mean - I do not know if you are to be present at the petition in the throne room but if you are not, I would - I would like to invite you for some tea. In the gardens?"

Genna bit her tongue, diverting her gaze, answering with her brows furrowed, "I do not think it would be a good idea."

"Please, my lady," Myna begged, her hands already reaching to hold hers but she stopped before she got closer to her, "just one time. Then . . . then if you never wish to speak to me, I swear I shall not get in your way. I just . . . I just wish to speak to you. Just a little."

In truth, Genna didn't want to speak to her now or later. But she was raised to be obedient first and foremost. In that sense, she nodded her head, letting out a breath she wasn't aware she was holding, "alright. I just need to return to my girls for a moment."

A smile tugged on Myna's lips as she nodded quickly like a child that just got a new toy, "yes! Yes, of course, my lady, whenever you wish. I will ask someone to bring the tea. To the gardens, then?"

Genna nodded, already taking a step away, "to the gardens, yes."

"Thank you," Myna called after her as she moved, "thank you so much, my lady."

Before the clock announced another hour, Genna moved through the gardens - wild roses and cranberries. A few servants already started picking the red fruit from the bushes as the lady Lannister moved pass, offering smiles to the girls. Myna stood from her chair and stepped close to the table, smiling, "my lady! Thank you for coming."

Genna nodded with a small smile as she moved to the table - yellow cloth, tea and desserts placed across. She pulled one of the chairs from the side, sitting down and adjusting her dress, one hand falling on her belly. Myna soon followed, sitting on the chair near. She couldn't sit still for a moment before she already reached for the kettle and pouring the hot water in the cup sitting in front of Genna, "the servants said the Maester said you are to drink ginger tea so that was what they brought. I hope you like it."

Genna nodded, "I do, thank you."

Myna placed the kettle back after filling her cup as well. She sat back on her chair before she reached for a white plate, pulling it closer and between their tea cups, "I, uhm, I have heard you like lemon cakes so I took the liberty and asking the cooks to make some."

"Heard it from my husband?" Genna asked, eyes following the outlines of the sweets in front.

"No," Myna replied with a chuckle through her nose, her hands nervously wiping newly formed sweat spots on her palms against her dress, "no, surprisingly from Aemond."

Genna looked up at Myna now - in what world did Aemond Targaryen know her pregnancy craving were lemon cakes? She cleared her throat, "I do like them, yes, thank you."

Myna offered her a smile and a nod, "of course."

As silence washed over them, Genna bit her lip before speaking, "I . . . I am truly sorry for your loss."

Myna's smile faded and she looked down at her lap, her fingers twisting one of the many rings on her fingers, "thank you, my lady. It seems the gods were not in my favour."

"Yes, the Seven often show cruel faiths to people," Genna replied, the stories of how her mother screamed while giving birth haunting her words.

"I did . . ." Myna took a breath in as she started, "I did want to explain myself, my lady, if you are to hear me out."

"I do not need your explanations," Genna replied quickly, not letting a moment for her to speak further, "truly. What was done, was done and what will be done, it will be done. I am not the master of my faith nor am I a master of Baelor's. Or yours, for that matter."

"No, no, my lady," Myna tried again, her voice almost pleading, "I just - I do wish to tell you this. Please. You must hear me."

Genna looked over her shoulder, thinking she heard her children. Eyes landed on the entrance of the gardens but saw nothing. She turned her head to Myna who already started speaking, "my mother died while giving birth to me. And I never knew my father. So, uhm, I was taken in by a woman that used to know my mother. Well, later, I found out my mother worked for her. She said - when I grew - that she can find me work. And, she, uhm, she sent me to King's Landing. Said there is much to do. I thought she meant something else. Anything else, really. But she sent me to the Street of Silk. And, and I had no idea what it was because I am not from anywhere nearby. So, she, uhm, she introduced me to this woman. Marya. I did not have a name until she saw me."

Myna watched pass the table, eyes watered, daring to spill, "and I remember - I was one and four - she looked at me and said I will make much money for her. She named me Myna. I do not know what they called me before that day. I did not really have a name for myself, ever. Not truly."

She shook her head and looked down at her lap again, "for my one and eight name day, Marya said she had a special guest for me. My name day gift. It was Baelor. I did not know who he was or why he would be so special. You know, they spoke of the Targaryens a lot. But every time they said silver hair and purple eyes. And he did not have the Targaryen features. Except for his eyes, of course. I had to give all my money to Marya. But he, uhm, he would leave more behind for me to have. In secret, I mean."

"I know I did some awful things, my lady," Myna spoke, finally looking up but couldn't reach Genna's eyes, "but I was trying to survive. And then Baelor thought of this idea where I could live a nice life, far away from Marya and that place. And I said yes because - because I did not think about it. All I wanted was to sit in front of my mother's green doors again and not be stuck inside that room."

Myna's cheeks became wet with tears, "I was not aware that he already wed you or that you gave birth to your twins. I rarely left that building and no one spoke of the politics inside it. Not to me, at least. I was always the child no one spoke to. I still am, I fear. I know it is my fault for that. I know the Queen does not like me for who I am; at least who she thinks I am because Baelor spoke lies to her. I do not understand princess Helaena as you do. Aemond is rarely near me and I am rarely near Baelor."

And though Genna was aware the child she carried was Baelor's, she was aware of all the nights he would spend sneaking under the tunnels of the Keep and out in the cold nights of the Street of Silk, she was aware of his affairs, his lovers, she couldn't be cold when Myna told her story. A tragic tale after another, she reached for the hands that laid in her lap, squeezing them gently as if they would break, "I truly am sorry, Myna, I did not know what you did."

"No one does," she whispered back, using her right sleeve to brush it under her nose, "but I truly am sorry, my lady. I did not know what will happen to me if I tried to avoid Baelor. I mean . . . I do owe him everything. If it was not for him, I would still be stuck in that room in that building."

Before Genna could reply, the voice of Alyssa reached her ears. With a smile as bright as the sun itself, she reached her mother's side, "mother, mother, mother!"

She looked from Myna who brushed away tears from her cheeks, "yes, sweetling."

Alyssa placed her hands on the armrests of the chair, looking up at her mother with bright eyes, "can I go see Visenya, please?"

"And where is your sister, sweet girl?" Genna asked, gently stroking her daughter's cheek.

Alyssa leaned into it, "with Septa Mordane."

Genna sighed softly, "did you run away from your studies again?"

"It is not my fault she is a bore," her daughter whine with a pout, "and she prefers Rhaella."

"She does not," Genna replied, "and even if she does, it is because Rhaella does not run away from her when she wishes to teach her something."

"But it is boring!" Alyssa replied again with a whine, "kepa already told me all the stories I must know about our family's history, why should she?"

"Alright, enough, Alyssa," her mother replied before she pulled herself from the chair, "do not be mean."

"Apologies, mother," she muttered, looking down at the shoes that stuck out from under her dress.

"Let us see Visenya," Genna offered Alyssa her hand which she gladly took before she turned to Myna, "I thank you for the tea, my lady."

Myna nodded, biting back tears, "thank you for hearing me, my lady."