[It was brief, but it was enough. The prince shifts in his seat to whereabouts it was before the door opens for them. As he stands, he fixes his jerkin by pulling at the bottom hem. Looking none different than when he might have entered it. Perhaps a bit more livened a bit more smug as he strolls into the keep with his mother in tow. One final look passed at her before they part ways.
The night, in fact, does come rather quickly. Only after a quick bath to scrub himself before he's expected to sit before a maester for daily lessons. The rest of his day foregone to do as he had promised her: navigating the hidden bowels of the Keep for the correct way to her room. Had he spent more time there, he might have found it more swiftly. But eventually found the best way to sort it out was to start from the king's chambers to find the adjoining path.
Sneaking in and through his father's room was an easy feat. Having been already visited by his maesters, they allowed him his early afternoon sleep. The cruelness is not lost on him as he slips through. Listening to pained wheezes slumbering under the burning of sacred herbs while he gently presses his fingers along the walls to find the crack that moves and opens a door concealed behind an old dusty tapestry. He pauses to look back at the lump in the bed. Feeling some twist of guilt that he is only here, has only visited him, as a means to betray him and the Seven to lay with his wife. A surreal feeling hits him. But he is already here, he has already committed, and he doesn't regret as he pushes on.
From there, it is easy to backwards navigate the way to the queen's chambers. Found in a panel beside her bed, shrouded in draperies. Waiting to enter until he is sure the room is quiet and empty before stepping in. She likely engrossed with the small council. To let her know, he moves something out of place. The book she'd taken in the carriage earlier moved from a table onto her bed. Slipping away again to now navigate himself back to a point where he might recognize and find his way to from his own room later that night.
The whole ordeal nearly makes him late for dinner. For which he is his usual self. At the prying of his grandfather, agreeing to speak on the morrow about the resources for Vhagar needed for the journey. The actual details sitting in a scroll in his room he had not yet the time to look at. By now the figures would be a scramble to digest. For the sun is set and the night has come. And whatever peace her mouth had brought him that day had waned again. The way he looks at her over half-eaten roast and spiced fruit tarts might speak as much. For the rest of the day was easy to get through but in the final hours they must face as they dismiss servants and whatever other court attentions might call them into the night. That will be the true torture. ]
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The night, in fact, does come rather quickly. Only after a quick bath to scrub himself before he's expected to sit before a maester for daily lessons. The rest of his day foregone to do as he had promised her: navigating the hidden bowels of the Keep for the correct way to her room. Had he spent more time there, he might have found it more swiftly. But eventually found the best way to sort it out was to start from the king's chambers to find the adjoining path.
Sneaking in and through his father's room was an easy feat. Having been already visited by his maesters, they allowed him his early afternoon sleep. The cruelness is not lost on him as he slips through. Listening to pained wheezes slumbering under the burning of sacred herbs while he gently presses his fingers along the walls to find the crack that moves and opens a door concealed behind an old dusty tapestry. He pauses to look back at the lump in the bed. Feeling some twist of guilt that he is only here, has only visited him, as a means to betray him and the Seven to lay with his wife. A surreal feeling hits him. But he is already here, he has already committed, and he doesn't regret as he pushes on.
From there, it is easy to backwards navigate the way to the queen's chambers. Found in a panel beside her bed, shrouded in draperies. Waiting to enter until he is sure the room is quiet and empty before stepping in. She likely engrossed with the small council. To let her know, he moves something out of place. The book she'd taken in the carriage earlier moved from a table onto her bed. Slipping away again to now navigate himself back to a point where he might recognize and find his way to from his own room later that night.
The whole ordeal nearly makes him late for dinner. For which he is his usual self. At the prying of his grandfather, agreeing to speak on the morrow about the resources for Vhagar needed for the journey. The actual details sitting in a scroll in his room he had not yet the time to look at. By now the figures would be a scramble to digest. For the sun is set and the night has come. And whatever peace her mouth had brought him that day had waned again. The way he looks at her over half-eaten roast and spiced fruit tarts might speak as much. For the rest of the day was easy to get through but in the final hours they must face as they dismiss servants and whatever other court attentions might call them into the night. That will be the true torture. ]