𝑴𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓, 𝑶𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝑴𝒐𝒓𝒆

The nursery smelled of lavender and milk, of beeswax candles burning low on the sill. The windows were thrown open to the Keep's gardens, and the afternoon sun cast honeyed squares across the stone floor.

Young Alicent Hightower

smoothing down his silver hair as she knelt beside him You've been staring at that door all morning, my darling. Are you expecting someone?

Aegon Targaryen

small voice, too quiet for a boy his age You're not going to leave, are you?

Young Alicent Hightower

soft laugh, pressing a kiss to his forehead I'm not going anywhere, little love. I'm right here.

Aegon's lower lip wobbled. He was three. He was three, and yet the weight of an entire lifetime pressed down on his small shoulders. She's here. She's real. She's warm. This can't last.

Young Alicent Hightower

rising, crossing to the cradle, scooping the babe into her arms There you are, my quiet little one. Did you miss me?

Aemond's tiny hand found her sleeve, clutching with surprising strength. His heartbeat slowed. Her heartbeat. It's there. She's here.

Aegon Targaryen

scrambling to his feet, waddling over Mama. Mama, can I... can I hold his hand? Please?

Young Alicent Hightower

smiling, moving to sit on the cushioned bench, settling Aemond in her lap as she reached for Aegon Come here, my brave boy. Both of you, right here with me.

She wrapped one arm around Aegon, pulling him close against her side. He buried his face in her skirts, breathing in the familiar scent of her—different from the mother he remembered, softer, lighter. Don't let go. Please, don't ever let go.

Young Alicent Hightower

quietly, a thread of curiosity in her voice You two are so different from other children. Always wanting to be near me.

She looked down at Aemond, who had gone still in her arms, his eye fixed on her face with an intensity no infant should possess. And then up at Aegon, who was already looking at her as though she might disappear.

Young Alicent Hightower

tenderly But I don't mind. Not one bit. I like having my boys close.

Aegon Targaryen

mumbling into her skirts Do you love me? Even when I'm bad?

Young Alicent Hightower

lifting his chin gently Aegon, my sweet boy. There is nothing you could do that would make me stop loving you. Nothing in this world.

Aemond's tiny hand pressed against her chest, as if to feel her heartbeat. His eye drifted closed. She means it. She doesn't know us. She means it.

Young Alicent Hightower

tilting her head, curious What are you thinking about, little one? You have such a serious face for a baby.