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ELEVEN;
『 THE ACCUSED 』

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ㅤ THE DAYS PASS GRACEFULLY. Some are spent on the back of Grey Ghost by the princess. The two have bonded quite closely since the fall of King's Landing. When they are separated, Cerilla wants nothing more than to mount the misty dragon and take to the skies. Due to her duties, as a faithful ally of the queen, unfortunately she has not had much time to herself. Most hours are spent near the queens side, or near Jacaerys' side. The queen has few allies, therefore the ones that she does have, she intends to keep close.

      Ulf White and Hugh Hammer, two of the dragon seeds, have been sent to Tumbleton to the down the green forces. Ormund Hightower has been slaughtering civilians left and right, and he now resides at Tumbleton, for a short period of time, to rekindle his forces. Hopefully, if all goes as planned, the two new dragon riders will be able to burn down Ormund and his forces, giving the blacks a slight advantage over that land.

The council is dismissed. The members along the table slip out of the room with little noise. Rhaenyra is the last to leave, accompanied by Corlys and Jacaerys in her wake. Upon reaching the hall, the queen looks over her shoulder to her son.

"Tumbleton will be ours in no time at all, my son, do not fret over it." She says in that motherly tone of hers. Jacaerys pushes his teeth together in a battle to speak, but instead keeps his lips sealed. Something in his gut, deep down, tells him that storming Tumbleton is not a good idea. He trusts his mother, and does not look down on her instincts commonly, but his own is telling him otherwise.

They divide down the hall. Jace takes to the left, toward the training grounds, and Rhaenyra right, to the throne room. Corlys stays on her heels. Ever since the death of Rhaenys, his beloved wife, Corlys has become like a puppy dog to the queen. He seems to know little of what it is like to be independent.

Cerilla's hands are callused from the arduous work she has been doing. Between swords, quills, and dragon reins, her hands have been tied- quite literally. She practices with a sword for at least an hour a day, spends much time during the evening composing letters, and most afternoons gripping the reins of a dragon.

The princess strides across the courtyard and plucks an arrow from the target. Usually she would not imagine using a bow, but her wrists have become sore from all the swordplay, so she has taken to the bow, for a few days, at least. She walks back across the courtyard and loads the arrow. She raises the wooden weapon and pinches one eye closed. Her breathing seems to stop as her focus grows more intense. Her breath releases the same moment the arrow does. It flies across the courtyard and impales the hay-man straight through the heart.

As she places her bow down to retrieve the arrow, a figure comes from behind a column and swiftly collects the item before she even has a chance to. Twirling it around his fingers, the prince tosses it to her. The arrow buzzes as it flies across. She snatched it up between her fingers and tosses it into the quiver. She rolls her eyes and racks the bow alongside the other weapons.

"You could have injured me." She says simply. Jace leans against one of the pillars, crossing his arms. Cerilla docks the quiver then turns to face Jacaerys. He stares at her with the cocky know-it-all smile. She's grown used to the expressions of the prince and what they mean. In this instance, this expression is a sign of ego.

He shrugs. "Well, if I happened to, I would have gladly brought you to the maester's quarters and got you taken care of." He replies with a single raised eyebrow. The princess strides over to him and flicks his lips with her index and thumb.

"That is no way to treat your future queen." She says with a smirk. He rolls off the column and grabs her hand before she has a chance to pull it away. He has become familiar with the callused skin along her once-soft palms. He decided he prefers the callused feeling. It gives her hands more depth. As he's about to say something, footsteps echo around the courtyard. The prince and the princess turn their attention to Corlys, the queens hand.

Judging by his expression alone, the two young ones can tell that the news is urgent. Without a single word spoken between the three of them, they embark down the hall, towards the council room. Cerilla hoped that the two hours she had spent in there earlier in the day would be the only time she'd spend in there for a day- but she was wrong. Corlys pushed open the doors then shuts them once they've all entered. Rhaenyra sits at the head of the table, closely surrounded by a few of the gold cloaks. She gestures for the three of them to be seated and they take their seats.

"Tumbleton has been ignited, but our forces have not taken it down," the queen says. "Ulf and Hugh have betrayed us. A number of greens had been disguised as blacks and aided Ulf and Hugh to kill off the blacks- the real blacks- that had been sent to aid them in the attack. We have been betrayed." Her voice is cool. The agony in her words only makes them all the more powerful. Cerilla exchanges a glance with Jace.

If Ulf and Hugh have switched their allegiance to the greens, that means the blacks are down two dragons. That means anyone could be a traitor. Anyone in the walls of the Red Keep, anyone inside the walls of the council room.

"The gates to the Keep will be barred immediately. Adam, Nettles, and Cerilla will be arrested immediately for questioning. There will not be another betrayer in my ranks." Her voice could cut dragonglass.

Before she has a chance to utter a word, there are hands around her upper arm, lifting the princess from her seat. The fingers wrap around her entire arm. As she is being lifted from her seat, Jacaerys stands abruptly from his chair and addresses his mother in a fiery tone. He demands for Cerilla to be released immediately, but his orders are nothing compared to the queens. He tries to grab her, but a good cloak snatches him back.

Corlys gets up immediately and leaves the room, to alert Adam and Nettles before it's too late. Cerilla does not fight as she gets dragged out of the room down multiple series of stairs, to the dungeon. She does not kick or scream. She keeps her eyes down, although she can feel the gazes of those that they pass. It's always the ones you least suspect, she can hear them say in their heads. A cell door is opened and the princess is tossed onto the hay. A key is inserted into the lock and twisted to assure her imprisonment. She slinks to the back of the cell, where there is a bench with a single blanket. She sits on the edge and stares through the black rods of the cell.

Besides the few torches lit on the wall, there is nothing but darkness. She thanks the gods for at least leaving her unshackled. Her wrists would not have been able to handle the iron clasps around her skin. Time passes, although the princess is unsure just how much. It must be hours, at least. She hears nothing aside from the occasional crackling of the torches or footsteps of the guards as they exchange posts. She keeps her eyes open as she sits in the corner of the room, in the shadows. She will be able to see anyone that passes by before they can see her.

Footsteps. Her eyes flash open. A man carrying a tray appears in the dim light. Corlys. Cerilla rises from the bench and approaches the cell door. He opens the small window and inserts the tray through. She takes it and examines the items on it- an apple, a bowl of soup, and a small cup of water. This is nothing like the lavish meals she has grown to become familiar with.

"Adam made it out on Seasmoke, Nettles has been arrested. I will be arrested too, within just a matter of time, since a gold cloak had caught me in the dragon pit speaking with Adam, warning him." His voice is beyond hushed. It is so quiet that most wouldn't even be able to hear him, if they had not been listening. Cerilla nods.

"And Jacaerys?" She asks. Corlys knew she would ask such a thing. The two have been practically inseparable since her arrival on the shore. He dips his head down to keep his words quiet as possible.

"He has not stopped begging Rhaenyra to release you. She has not stopped refusing his request. He is not even allowed to see you." His words are kept cryptic for any ears that many be listening. Cerilla nods and steps back. Corlys departs down the hall. She shuts her eyes for a moment and imagines the gold cloaks surging him too, stripping him of every inkling of pride and tossing him into a cell.

She takes back to her bench and picks at the food. She bites hastily into the apple, leaving only a thin core left by the time she decides she can't eat anymore. She picks up the bowl of soup and slurps it like a rabid beast. She hadn't even been given a spoon. After wiping the liquid from her chin, she down the water. Cerilla sits the tray aside then lays rather awkwardly on the bench. She has to keep her knees tucked to even fit. She wraps the tattered blanket around herself and attempts to sleep.

The princess is in and out of a light sleep for many hours. Any slight sound, like a torch crackling or the hat rustling wakes the princess instantly. Though, after addressing her surroundings, she manages to slide back into slumber. Upon hearing the jingling of keys, ehe shoots upward, eyes wide open. The key is inserted and the door is opened. She cowers in the shadows until she realizes it's a gold cloak at her cell door. She inches away from the darkness, slowly, keeping her movements timid. The gold cloak straps the key set to his belt and gestures for her to step out. She abides by his command and steps into the hall. The armored man grabs a torch from the wall then leads her out.

Her exit is much different than her entrance. She has been dragged in, unwillingly, with force. Now, hours later, she exits with no hands on her body and complete willingness. It has been hours since she last saw the sun. Something as simple as daylight has been something she'd taken for granted. They climb the steps out of the dungeon and the princess' hands cover her face, blocking out the blinding orange morning sun. She squints her eyes as they walk in the direction of the throne room. The guard placed the torch outside the door and pushes it open, gesturing for the princess to enter.

With short steps, she marches down the hall. The throne grows closer with each stride. Rhaenyra sits with her arms gripping the handles of the throne. The swords spike out from all around her. As the morning sun shines through the window above her, it creates this sort of godly effect. Her white hair seems to glow even brighter than it normally does and her crown seems to shine. Cerilla bows immediately upon entering. The room is empty, aside from the queen herself, the prince, and a few gold cloaks. The queen commands the princess to stand and she does.

"Princess Cerilla, you have been an ally of mine since the beginning of my reign. My son collected you off of our shores and you pledged your allegiance to me almost immediately. You have been given shelter, food, and even a dragon. These are things that a betrayer should not have. Do you agree?" Her voice booms through the room. The princess has to force herself to keep her eyes straight ahead. As much as she wants to catch the eyes of the prince, she tells herself she mustn't look away.

"I agree," she answers. "Those are things a betrayer should not have, and I am no betrayer. I left my home to aid you, I gave up my throne to stand by yours. Perhaps the Dornish don't always keep to their word, but a princess does." Cerilla keeps her voice calm but her words strong. She has been accused of betraying her queen.

      The queen seems to ponder for a moment. "Do you understand why I arrested you?" Is all she says after many moments of thinking.

     The princess nods. "You were betrayed by two men whom you have dragons to. But, I am no man, nor am I a betrayer. You arrested me out of fear, out of panic. It is what any ruler would have done, your grace." She keeps her eyes locked on Rhaenyra's. The queen digests her words, her carefully selected statements.

      "Your charges will be dismissed immediately and you will return back to your duties." She says simply. Cerilla exhales a deep breath of relief. Those words immediately calmed every muscle in her body. She nods and turns to leave, then stops in her tracks. She looks over her shoulder, meeting Jace's eyes only for a second, then drags her gaze to the queen.

      "Corlys, too, is innocent. Believe me how you want, but that man is no betrayer." Perhaps a cocky statement to make after just getting her charges dropped, but the princess cannot bare to see someone who is falsely accused to be stuck behind bars as she was.

      Cerilla turns and exits the throne room, then makes her way to her chambers. She feels eyes linger on her as she makes her way through the halls. They wonder if she really is a betrayer, if her bluff has blinded the queen. People will always have questions, people will always be curious of the outsiders. The princess is surprised to see a guard stationed outside of her chambers.

      "Princess, I am Morund Seaspe. I have sworn to be your faithful protector, but the queen herself." Her says. Cerilla nods and without a single word, enters her chamber. She changes immediately out of the dress she has been wearing for far too long, the dress that she wore when locked in that cell. It has become splotched with dirt.

      She changes into another yellow dress and immediately feels refreshed. She then takes to her vanity and combs through her curly hair. It has become a wild mess since the last time she saw it. Her back aches from the mere thought of sleeping on that bench again. It was made of hard stone, and the only thing that separated her body from the object was a single thin blanket. She swipes pigment onto her cheeks and lips then pulls herself away from the mirror before she can critique her appearance again.  She heads to the bookshelf and pulls out the ancient book about High Valyrian. She tosses it onto the desk and pulls out the chair. As her fingers slide to open the page where she had left off, her chamber doors open suddenly.

      She turns to see Morund and Jacaerys. Now that she has a protector, anyone who is to enter will be announced by him. Morund states the prince's presence, as if she hadn't been able to see it otherwise, then exits the room, pulling the door shut behind him. He stands idly in front of the door for just a few moments. Cerilla rises slowly from the chair. Before she knows it, they meet in the center of the room with their arms wrapped around one another.

       Ever since her arrival at Dragonstone, they have never been separated for more than a few hours at a time. The countless time she had spent down in that cell caused her to drip with emotion, mostly of eagerness. She awaited desperately for the moment she would see the prince again. She imagined him walking down the hall at any sound she heard, holding a torch, ready to release her.

      She breathes in his scent and she breathes in hers. Her body seems to relax at his simple touch. Every muscle and nerve that had been tense from speaking with the queen has relaxed. After a few long moment of an unspoken hug, she takes a seat in the chair at the desk and Jacaerys continues to stand in front of her, his hand perched on the back of the wooden chair.

      "I attempted to sneak out of my chamber and to the dungeon, but I had not been alerted of Morund's presence. He caught me before I even made it down the hall." He says. Cerilla slips out a smile and nods. She knew he would have made some attempt to venture to her rescue.

      "I thank you for your failed capture." She says, sarcastically. The prince smirks at her. He's relieved to know that she has already returned back to her normal humor.

      "Corlys is in the throne room now, being addressed for his crimes. My mother will likely drop them and he will return back to the hand of the queen. I believe she just grew rather alert after hearing that Ulf and Hugh had transferred sides." He explains. Cerilla nods and feels at least a slight amount of anxiety slip away. Corlys does not deserve to be behind bars.

       "I swear you will never be behind bars again." The prince whispers. He plants a kiss on her forehead. Cerilla soaks up the feeling.

      The prince has been the only thing she could think about while sitting in that dark cell. She wonders what that could mean. Is it love? Is it desire? Perhaps she will know soon enough.