Capítulo 33: Chapter 17: The Queen Regent (Visenya)
𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧, 𝟖𝟎𝟏𝟔
𝐕𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐲𝐚'𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐬
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Visenya looked into the mirror as Elayna helped adjust her clothes for court, a long black dress with a dark silver chain necklace with a pendant of pure obsidian, black as night, the clothes of a mourning queen.
She was painfully aware of the lines on her face, under her eyes. To be sure they were not new, she had become aware of them the past few years, she was leaving her youth behind, but ever since Aegons death she had seemingly aged ten years, with dark lines under her eyes.
𝘈𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘯 She thought, just thinking of his name was enough to wrack grief through her body, coursing through her veins, tears welling at her eyes, but she did not let them pass.
𝘈 𝘘𝘶𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘳𝘺…𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨 Visenya thought, steeling herself, once she entered the throne room there could be no hint of weakness.
As if she was aware of Visenyas thoughts, Elayana, her handmaiden, took her hand and squeezed it gently. The young woman was near 20 years younger than her but was one of the only people that Visenya truly trusted. On the night that terrible raven had reached her with the news, her handmaiden had even warmed her bed, comforting her, like she was a young girl.
''They will be expecting you Your grace.'' Elayana said gently.
Visenya nodded, taking one last look in the mirror before Elayana placed a circlet of black silver on her silver hair, and with that she made her way to the door, where the Kingsguard Ser Garmon Hightower had the guard.
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''My Queen.'' Ser Garmon said, bowing deeply, Visenya nodded silently and together they walked through the timber halls of the Aegonfort until they arrived at the Longhall of the Aegonfort, where the castle denizens were assembled for court.
The longhall of the Aegonfort, which had been so lively during the courts of the late King, was nearly deserted, with only a small handful of nobles present. Visenya had sent away almost all of the small council, Harlan Tyrell, Edmyn Tully, Jon Mooton, all had been given leave to return home, she did not want to contend with any other opposing voices in her regency, she would not be questioned by the likes of them, no matter how competent they were, they would act in the interests of their houses while Visenya would only work to secure her sons position.
Only her half-brother Orys and Grandmaester Arlan remained, both standing on opposite sides of the Iron Throne.
The rest of the smoky longhall was sparsely crowded. The knights of the Kinsguard were all present, save for Corlys Velaryon who was with her son in the courtyard, no doubt training Vaemond on swordplay and tactics. The two had become almost inseparable since their return, and Visenya sensed these lessons were a way to distract him from his grief.
Her daughter Nyel was also present, as were Orys's two squires Michael Musgood and Steffon Swann. She quite liked little Michael, a boy of 8 who was well mannered, but she did not like the way that Steffon Swann, with his long black hair and green eyes looked at his daughter, and more importantly she did not like how Nyel looked back at him. The boy was due to return home in a year but she would have to have a quiet word with Orys that perhaps he should be sent back to Stonehelm immediately.
Her sister Rhaenys was not present either, a fortnight after that terrible raven had arrived, she had departed for Storms End, where Orys's wife was expecting another child, hoping the running of little feet would distract her from her grief, an idea Orys had been supportive of. Visenya once again felt a twinge of sadness that her sister would likely never have children of her own, but darker thoughts reminded her that her own children would not have to look over their shoulder at younger half-siblings.
Brynden Tully, the one legged commander of the gold cloaks was also present, leaning on a cane, accompanied by his youngest son Rhaegar, a skinny boy with red hair. Her handmaiden Elayana was present as well, normally it would not be appropriate for one of such low standing to attend court but there was noone left to oppose Visenya's decision.
Rounding out the group of regulars was Ser Neilyn, the Dornish hedge knight who served as the castle's master-of-the-hunt as well as occasionally serving as Aegon's justice and executioner after meeting the King following the capture of Wyl.
At the back of the hall was one of the largest men that Visenya had ever seen, standing a good foot taller than Aegon had been, more than seven feet tall, he had short cropped brown hair and the beginnings of a beard, he wore a woolen doublet with the sigil of a black and white boar.
𝘏𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 Visenya thought as she took a seat, carefully maneuvering herself so that the black silk of her dress would not be torn.
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𝘈𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘰𝘭 She thought as she struggled to get comfortable, he had somehow believed that the uncomfortable nature of the throne would remind a king that they must never grow complacent, not even in their own throne, but Visenya found that it was hard to concentrate on anything for fear of slipping back onto a sword.
At last however she found a position where there didn't seem to be any immediate threat of being impaled and turned to the court, nodding to Orys to begin the proceedings, who asked if there were any in the court that wished to lay a matter before the Queen regent, due to the small attendance however there were no petitions, leaving Visenya free to deal with other matters.
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She turned to the huge man at the back of the hall ''Ser Roland Crakehall, step forward if you will.''
The large man stepped forward towards the Throne, bowing his head.
''Ser Roland….I have heard tales and rumors of a formidable young Knight from Crakehall…I find rumors to be inaccurate at best, but these tales do you a disservice Ser.'' Visenya said curtly.
''As you know, the Kinsguard Ser Stafford Lannister, representative of the Westerlands was…..lost at sea along with his King.'' Visenya said, stopping to collect herself for a moment.
Ser Roland nodded and spoke, a deep booming voice despite his young age ''I instructed the septon of Crakehall to have candles lit in the sept for the King and Ser Stafford, along with all the others who perished….the Westerlands share your grief my lady.''
Visenya very much doubted that but she nodded ''There is a vacancy on my sons Kingsguard that could be filled by a Knight of the Westerlands….I would offer you the chance to fill this vacancy….consider carefully as you would be giving up the chance at land, title, and heir.''
The young knight took a knee ''The seven as my witness I shall keep the King safe from harm….I accept.''
Visenya gave a small smile, she knew he would accept, and it was good that he had, It would do her son good to have a younger Kinsguard around him, as the youngest member of the guard before Rolands appointment was 34. ''Good, Lord Commander Corlys Velaryon will hear your vow following court, myself and my son shall attend at the White Sword Tower.''
Ser Roland nodded and withdrew to the back of the hall.
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With that finished, the next order of business was begun.
''Ser Neilyn….step forward.'' Visenya commanded and the gray haired Dornish hedge knight complied.
''It is the opinion of the council that you have served the court well for these past years, putting food on the table as master of the hunt, and proving your martial ability during the Dornish conspiracy.'' Visenya began.
The knight nodded ''I am pleased you see the value in my service your Grace.''
''It is the wish of the council that you be henceforth raised to the rank of lord, and be given the island of Sunstone as your seat….Grandmaester Arlan will meet with you following court to create a sigil of your choice.'' Visenya decreed, earning nods from both Orys and Arlan on her side.
Neilyn had used his years in the capitol to great effect, befriending both the Hand of the King Orys by hunting together on occasion and the Grandmaester, whom he instructed on how best to prevent ravens from being attacked by falcons. It was these friendships that led him to become the leading candidate to receive the island of Sunstone.
In truth Visenya had not particularly cared about the small rocky island in the narrow sea, she was aware of Aegon's plan to perhaps set up their son Matarys as Lord of the Stepstones, but she didn't think it fitting that a prince be given overlordship of former pirates, rocky islands, and bedraggled fishermen as his inheritance, such a task was much more suited for an old and grizzled hedge knight than the blood of the Dragon.
''I accept the honor,my Queen.'' Ser Neilyn said, bowing his head, looking rather pleased, as he should. In just a few years he had gone from master-at-arms of the Dornish castle of Wyl, to master of the hunt of the royal court, to a lord of a newly founded noble house.
After Lord Neilyns ascension, there was but one more thing Visenya wished to accomplish for the days court.
She turned to Grandmaester Arlan, barely avoiding cutting herself on a sharp sword edge.
''Grandmaester…have a raven sent to Runestone informing Lord Nestor Royce that he is to bring both my son and his daughter to the capitol, it is time they were wed.'' Visenya said, earning a few whispers in the court, the prospect of a royal marriage was always exciting.
Grandmaester Arlan ran a hand through his long white beard ''My Queen if I may….the prince and Demerei Royce are quite young….perhaps it would be best to wait a few years, until the prince is a man grown….it takes a man to fully understand the vows of marriage.''
Visenya shook her head ''The marriage need not be consummated for some time, but it is time my son returned home…do as I ask Grandmaester.''
Arlan nodded, ever obedient.
In truth, Visenya had meant to do this much earlier. With Aegon's death, she feared that some unknown faction might snatch her son, isolated and alone in the Vale and use him as a figurehead or a puppet in some sort of rebellion against his older brother, the sooner her son was safe in the capital the better.
Visenya felt the tiredness take her, the court had drained her more than she knew, she stood from the throne and dismissed the court for the day, returning to her chambers and dreaming of better days.
Estado de energía semanal
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