Chapter 26: Purple

Second Moon, 91 AC

Viserra

"Seven blessings to you Zaldilaros," the woman said in Tyroshi.

"You are most welcome," Viserra replied.

Tyroshi Low Valyrian was hard to grasp at times, as it had evolved from High Valyrian in the past two centuries, but the two were still mutually intelligible. Most of Tyrosh's populace, including slaves who had been here for any longer than a year, all spoke Tyroshi to some degree or another. High Valyrian had been kept to only by the elites.

She looked around at the building. It had been converted into a rudimentary sept since their takeover of the city. Soldiers and servants from Driftmark had prayed in a sept they had set up in the Black Fortress and then the septons had come to preach, arriving from both Driftmark as well as Oldtown, and they had only begrudgingly let in some of the latter. The rising presence of the Faith of the Seven in the city had aided them greatly in helping the slaves transition to free lives. It helped distribute food and teach the freed slaves important skills needed for being their own masters.

For those slaves who had not been Buzantys or similarly favored, life had been terrible and miserable. All the other gods and religions in the city, R'hllor, the Trios, the Pattern, and others, all of them had either approved of slavery, or had been indifferent to it. Some had even gone so far as to demand slaves obey their masters, been used as tools by the old elites, much like the dragonlords in Valyria had done.

It was not surprising then, that more and more former slaves were converting to worship the Seven with every passing day. Unlike the many gods of Tyrosh who had been unsympathetic to their plights, or the gods of their homelands who had abandoned them and let them be captured and taken away into slavery, the Seven condemned slavery and the Velaryons, who followed the Seven, were seen as saviors sent by them to free the slaves of Tyrosh.

Corlys and Rhaekar were revered as well, but Viserra, who was known throughout the city as the rider of the great dragon, was almost worshipped. Zaldilaros they called her, with unshakable faith. Faith so strong that Viserra, who had tried to convince them to be just a little less religiously deferential to her, had been ignored and the people had called her humble for it before bowing to her and all but worshipping her again. It had made her a little uncomfortable at first, but if she was being honest, she had begun to enjoy it. It sang to a part of her she had thought forgotten. The girl who had once simply agreed with a squire who had called her a goddess.

Some believers had begun proudly wearing the seven-pointed star, and many had even gone so far as to carve it on their heads like the Faith Militant of old. It was what had led the group as a whole to be known as Stars to others in Tyrosh. It was but one of four factions of note that had consolidated since their conquest of the city.

Velaryons soldiers and servants from Driftmark often had a tendency to wear seahorse insignias or display the sigil in some other way. Their long loyalty and traditional association with the Velaryons had seen them named as Seahorses by the common man on the streets. Some had even begun considering them a joint faction with the Stars for their shared loyalty to House Velaryon, if it was expressed in different ways. Seastars, some had japed the two groups might be called together.

Another faction were the Dyes, made up of the nobles who had collaborated with the Velaryons and their followers among the freeborn, most of the clergy of the local religions, and many of the formerly enslaved artisans and bureaucrats. They were called Dyes because their unofficial leader, Lysos Eranyr, and the other nobles, were famed for having extravagantly dyed hair and clothes.

As she left the sept, the Stars gathered around her eagerly, begging her to stay with them a little longer. Putting on a dazzling smile, Viserra turned to them. "I must go now my Stars, but fear not. I will return another day!"

They cheered as she mounted her horse and rode away from the sept, her Tide Guard escorts riding around her. As she galloped her mare to the Black Fortress, Viserra noticed some of the men on the road and narrowed her eyes. They had come too close to the Stars for comfort. The last of the four major factions that had formed in Tyrosh.

They called themselves, 'The Noble and Most Honorable Protectors of Tyrosh and Her Traditions'. A lofty and pretentious title. Velaryon soldiers just called them Towers, for the badge of the Bleeding Tower they all wore proudly on their breast. An alliance between the Buzantys, about half of the privileged slave artisans and bureaucrats, and some of the freeborn and local religious clergy, led by the charismatic and exalted Ario Orlyr, who else. In other words, a consolidation of nearly every group in the city that had reasons to oppose Velaryon rule. How convenient.

Unfortunately, Viserra had been overruled by Corlys and Rhaekar when she had proposed crushing the Towers by force. Something to do with them controlling too many interests in the city and being vital to its recovery. In Viserra's mind that was precisely why they had to be curtailed now but she had been overruled and she would abide by it.

She didn't have to like it though. She glared at the Towers as she rode past them and noted to herself the need to increase security around the septs. Towers had an awful habit of harassing septs and Viserra had had to post more and more guards around them with every passing week. It was coming to the point that the Stars were taking up arms to help alleviate the tired Velaryon marines and that had certainly not done the them any favors in the opinion of either Corlys or Rhaekar, both of whom were wary of a Faith Militant forming under their nose.

Viserra could understand their concern, but she did not wholly agree with it. The Stars were loyal to her, to their house, first and foremost. To them, House Velaryon were the saviors sent by the Seven. Their word and orders were like commands from the Seven-Pointed Star. She had seen this in action. The Stars were more trustworthy than the Towers, that was for sure.

When she rode into the courtyard of the Archon's Palace, she saw her maid Pina waiting for her with a worried expression on her face. Dismounting her horse, Viserra asked her, "What is it Pina?"

"My lady," Pina bowed her head slightly. "I was told to inform you that you have been summoned to an urgent meeting with Lord Corlys and Ser Rhaekar at once!"

Viserra nodded and handed the reins to her horse to one of her guards before rushing off to Corlys's solar. The urgent summons scared her. A million thoughts ran through her head. Had something happened on Driftmark? To their children? To Irina, or Alys, or Aurane? What was going on?

As she reached the solar, Viserra heard the shouts. "This is all your fault Corlys!" Rhaekar screamed.

She walked faster, ran if she was being honest. The Tide Guards posted at the door had been expecting her and opened it for her as she walked in. Corlys had his head in his palms, looking defeated as Rhaekar berated him. Both looked at her as she walked in.

"What's going on?" she demanded.

Rhaekar turned to her husband. "Tell her then. Tell her Corlys!"

There was uncertainty and worry in Corlys's face when he looked at her. The confident smile he had once always worn was gone now. "Viserra… Velos has fallen."

Her mind raced. "What?" she choked out.

"A few scattered ships have come in from the east bearing ill tidings. They say the cities of Slaver's Bay gathered and attacked Velos together, setting fire to the outpost and slaughtering or recapturing any former slaves they found. Whoever managed to escape fled east on ships and came here, slipping through their blockade. Our cousin Lucerys is missing, and no word has come for ransom from the slavers. We believe he's dead, along with thousands more in Velos."

"How could this have happened? Without us even knowing of it until now?" Viserra asked.

"Because Corlys was cocky." Rhaekar's voice was cold, full of anger and indignation. "He miscalculated yet again and we are paying the price for it now."

Viserra stared at Rhaekar. "Were you any different?"

Rhaekar shook his head in shame. "No."

"Jaehaerys is cunning indeed. He must have known all too well that we would have recovered in time," Corlys said, his fury beginning to show.

"You think my father had a hand in this?" Viserra asked, her own anger steaming.

"Do you think the slavers would have dared to move against us alone so long as you ride Dreamfyre?" Corlys demanded. "No. This has Jaehaerys's hands all over it. The slavers have even gone so far to attack our ships mooring in New Ghis or passing along the trade route in the Summer Sea. It isn't safe for them anymore. I've already given the order for all our ships to withdraw west of the Doom."

"They have not won yet," Viserra said angrily. "I can leave for Slaver's Bay within a week, take a fleet with me. We'll stop for provisions in Volantis, and then once I round the Doom, I can show Slaver's Bay the meaning of Fire and Blood and reduce every single damnable city in that blasted bay to ash and ruin!"

"You cannot Viserra." Rhaekar's voice was stern and firm. "We need you here."

"I don't answer to you Rhaekar," Viserra said before she turned to Corlys.

He shook his head and her heart sank. "Rhaekar's right Viserra. You can't leave Tyrosh."

"So you're just giving up?" she demanded.

"I'm not," he denied. "I'm making a strategic withdrawal. Viserra, Tyrosh is unstable! We have Dyes, Stars, and Towers, all clamoring to usurp us and take over this city! It would be folly to spend men and money we don't have to send a fleet thousands of miles away to retake Velos, and without Dreamfyre, such a war is doomed to fail anyway, as is our rule here. There will be time for vengeance one day, but that day is not today, or any day soon."

"What are we going to do then?" Viserra asked desperately. "Without Velos, and with Slaver's Bay openly hostile, our trade routes to Yi Ti are no longer tenable! Our coffers will bleed without stanch!"

Corlys looked frantic, searching desperately for an answer in his thoughts. "We… we'll have to figure something out. Trade through Volantis as a middleman to bypass Slaver's Bay maybe. Increase the production of our domestic silk and tea as much as possible. The mainland territories we received in the treaty could help with that. We… we'd have to innovate on Driftmark as much as we can, increase production of our local goods and develop new ones to export."

"All of these things require money to do Corlys! Money we don't have! Unless you are foolish enough to suggest we compromise our reserves entirely? Will you empty the vaults of High Tide on this hopelessly ambitious and optimistic plan?" Rhaekar demanded, frustrated.

"We'd have to take the money from somewhere else. Right now the biggest drain on our coffers apart from everything needed to support our rule in Tyrosh… is Driftmark."

"What?" Viserra asked, shocked. Surely Corlys wasn't suggesting…

Rhaekar slammed his fist into the desk in front of Corlys. "What did you say?"

Corlys did not flinch and stared his brother in the eye, indigo met indigo. "The subsidies we've been giving to Driftmark's businesses to keep them afloat are the most unnecessary part of our expenses right now. I don't see any other option but to reduce them, or remove them altogether. They're also exposed to the Targaryens. It would also be wise to begin moving many of our institutions and industries here to Tyrosh, far away from the reach of the Iron Throne."

"Then what would happen to Driftmark?" Viserra asked.

Corlys did not answer. Rhaekar shook his head and walked to the door. Her husband called out to his brother almost desperately. "Brother, where are you going? I need your counsel, now more than ever!"

Rhaekar snapped back to him. "Do you? Then why do you never listen to me? Why do you always ignore me? I told you from the very start that this was a bad idea. You didn't listen, now look what has happened. The Targaryens are ascendant! The Stepstones will soon be ruled by Otto Hightower and his ilk. The son of our grandfather's hated rival is now the Master of Ships. The lords of Westeros are united behind Jaehaerys; all of them eager to see us fall and rise in our place!

"Our allies and kin are on the brink of deserting us; their loyalty rests on a knife's edge. Velos is dead and our cousin with it! The source of our wealth is gone and now you propose destroying what remains of our grandfather's legacy? What are we supposed to do Corlys? Just watch it all wither away slowly? Driftmark will die if we cut off our support to it! What a poor repayment for the loyalty of our people! You've gone too far now Corlys. Not even Driftmark is to be spared as sacrifice on the altar of your ego?"

Corlys rose. "Do not shirk your responsibility and put all of this on me Rhaekar! You backed me, you advised my plan! How were any of us to know the extent of Jaehaerys's reprisal? That is on all of us!"

"You're right. I did back you ultimately," Rhaekar admitted. "That was my mistake. I trusted you. I believed that the great Corlys Velaryon, the Sea Snake himself, could perform another miracle. I was wrong. I've warned you our entire life Corlys. Warned you that your arrogance, your overconfidence, your recklessness, would lead you into trouble one day. I was right. It has. And you've dragged the rest of us into it.

"When will your eyes open Corlys? You keep spouting all these hopeless plans because you know the truth in your heart. Admit it. We lost. You lost. It's over Corlys. All that's left to do now is write a speech begging Jaehaerys's mercy and hope its forthcoming," Rhaekar said as he walked out of the room.

Corlys sat back into his chair, defeated. "Say, if I sent for the Driftwood Throne to be brought to Tyrosh, do you think Rhaekar will strangle me?"

Viserra was not amused. "That was a pathetic attempt at a jape."

"I know. I know."

"Corlys, you have to reconcile with Rhaekar. Our situation has become dire. We can't afford to have division between us now. House Velaryon has to stand united or fall divided. I'll talk to him, arrange a meeting. We'll have dinner together, just the three of us. I'll get him in the seat, but you are the one that has to talk to him. Apologize, beg, plead, I don't care, but you must reconcile with him!" Viserra ordered.

Her husband nodded in understanding. "I will."

As Viserra walked around the desk to come closer to her husband, he continued speaking. "It's not all bad news. Aurane sent me a missive; he'll be coming soon. Rhaekar was too angry to look at it."

"He's been busy the past few months," Viserra noted.

"Yes. Ever since he was dismissed from the Small Council he's been hard at work and now it's finally bearing fruit. Almost six months' work gathering whatever resources and funds he can from our allies and vassals, and from our own lands in the Hook and on Driftmark. He's promised to bring reinforcements, thousands more freshly trained marines and soldiers, hundreds of servants and officials to help us staff the Black Fortress and run the city, and the funds to pay for all of them too."

They had taken Tyrosh with ten thousand men, half of which had been sellswords. All those sellswords had since left, frightened off by the sanctions Jaehaerys had placed on their house. Corlys hadn't tried all too hard to keep them around; sellswords were notoriously expensive and of dubious loyalty, there was too much fear that they would fall in with the Towers or Dyes or some other external party and become yet another threat to them. Their departure had not been unwelcome as a result, but it had left their loyal soldiers overstretched.

They couldn't call their banners either, they had taken scutage from their vassals in the Hook instead of levies for their obligations due to the questionably legal nature of their conquest of Tyrosh. Though they could recruit men from the Hook to join their personal standing forces, unless Driftmark itself was under threat, any attempt to directly call their vassals and their banners to war might breach the laws on the King's Peace, resulting in the interference of the Iron Throne, especially if their vassal lords protested. The levies taken would also further burden Driftmark and its lands and hasten their decline from the sanctions.

Thankfully, three thousand more loyal soldiers sworn to their house had already come to Tyrosh from the Stepstones and they had been a great boon but with the departure of the sellswords, their loyal soldiers had still been overextended. Eight thousand men was barely enough to keep control of a newly conquered city like Tyrosh and its still extant Buzantys corps. Hearing that more reinforcements were coming was great news indeed, but there had to be a cost.

"What of Driftmark then?" Viserra asked again. The thought of the wondrous island's splendor being lessened in any way was saddening.

"Driftmark will survive," Corlys said, sounding like he was trying to convince himself. "It always has. It always will. It will have lean times now, as we move more and more men and resources here and cut our subsidies.

"The people will inevitably follow as we move our institutions as well. Tyrosh needs a branch of the Velaryon Bank, to take possession of the assets of the local Tyroshi banks. It will need branch headquarters for the various companies of Driftmark if they are to hope to survive. Maybe even a branch of the university. The University of Tyrosh perhaps?

"But all of these things take time, and I worry over the wisdom of doing them so long as Tyrosh remains unstable and uncertain. The city is like a barrel of wildfire, waiting to blow. We could bring thousands more of our people here but I fear it will still be a struggle nonetheless."

"The seven hells are empty," Viserra mused.

"And all the devils are here," Corlys finished.

Corlys looked down, placed his head into his palms and sighed. "At times like this, I understand Rhaekar's anger. How did it come to this? Where did it all go wrong? Driftmark is our home. It is our grandfather's legacy. Our legacy. We spent years building it into what it is and now I have to tear it down with my own hands for the sake of our house."

Viserra hugged him from behind and laid her head on his shoulder, her arms around his. "You'll make it right. I know you will."

There was a silence for a while before Corlys spoke again. "I'm thinking… when Aurane comes, I'll send Rhaekar back to Driftmark for a time. Let him see Irina and their children. He could get to work on alleviating Driftmark's struggles as much as possible. He's very good at that. It will do him much good to have a break from all of this mess in Tyrosh I think."

Viserra nodded. "I agree."

Corlys smiled before his eyes became wistful. "I wish I could go with him. I want to see our sons again, hear them babble and call to me as they crawl into my arms and cherish me. Six months feel like eternity away from them. We even missed their nameday. Two years old now…I fear they may not even remember us soon enough."

"I worry as well. The idea that our sons will look at me and see a stranger… it kills me inside to imagine," Viserra confessed.

"We have to make it safe here Viserra, as soon as possible," her husband said seriously, locking eyes with her. "Either so we can bring Jace and Luke here to Tyrosh or return home to Driftmark, to them."

"I want to take Jace and Luke walking on Driftmark's beaches. I want to show them those brilliant white sands. Let them feel the sand beneath their toes and the cool crystal clear water licking at their feet. And then I'd have them look up and we'd see it together.

"Can you see it Viserra? That pale castle on the hill? The cliffs rising sheer from the water? The tide has come in, and only the causeway connects it to the rest of Driftmark now. Its walls are pale and its slender towers rise into the sky like spikes of pearl; the beaten silver crowning their roofs shines in the morning sun."

"I can. I remember," Viserra said. Her husband's work evoked a strong image in her mind, an image of home, of children and laughter and joy. An image far away from them.

Her husband turned to her, his eyes honest and tender. "One day, when all of this is over in Tyrosh, we will return to that castle on the hill. Then a great shout will rise from Spicetown, full of cheer and laughter: The Lord and Lady have returned! The glory of Driftmark will be restored and all will be made as it should be once more."

They stayed like that for a little while. It was soothing, a much needed break from the chaos of Tyrosh. Moments like these were precious and had become rarer as the months had passed and their workload had seemed to increase instead of decline. Eventually, Corlys pulled out a letter from the pocket inside his doublet and handed it to Viserra behind him.

"What's this?" she asked, noticing the seal on it. A red salmon on white field with a golden tressure, quartered with the three-headed dragon of House Targaryen.

 "It was bundled with the missive from Aurane. He said it came by raven from Maidenpool," Corlys answered. "It's from your sister Saera. She's proposing a deal between our houses," he said as Viserra read through the letter.

When she had finished reading the letter, Viserra set it down on the desk.

"Your thoughts?" Corlys asked. Do you think she can be trusted?"

Viserra shook her head. "I would trust Saera as much as I can throw her… but in this at least I feel she is being genuine. She has little real need to do this, and even if it is exposed to Jaehaerys, punishment for this would fall most squarely on her and her family, not on us. There's not much more he can do to punish us than he already has."

Corlys smirked in amusement. "Your sister Saera is cunning indeed. With one hand she will accept your father's outreach to reconcile with her and support his policies, and with another she will trade with us in secret. She gets the best of both worlds and profits handsomely. I can't help but admire the audacity and the cleverness."

"This could help Driftmark itself. No middlemen. No need to bring goods to Tyrosh first. If Saera says Maidenpool has much less scrutiny on its customs than Gulltown and Claw Isle, we have no reason to not take her at her word. The whole realm was shocked to hear of how she reconciled with our father. It seems she was just playing him for her house's benefit," Viserra observed.

"Yes. It's good news. Hopefully Rhaekar can be convinced by this and our offer for him to return to Driftmark when Aurane arrives," Corlys said, looking pleased and hopeful.

Viserra smiled before raising another point. "That being said, it would be poor gratitude to repay my sister by inadvertently leaking her plan. We should approach this with the utmost care."

Corlys nodded and burned the letter in the candle flame. "I'll have one of the Tide Guard carry our reply to her. If necessary he can be our envoy as well, and handle any further negotiation on our behalf."

She raised an eyebrow. "In disguise I hope?"

Corlys laughed. "Obviously my dear. The Tide Guard are not defined by their distinctive blue armor and eye-catching sea-green cloaks. That is merely their uniform, and a proud one. What defines our Tide Guard most is their loyalty and their discretion. Their ability to keep our secrets and carry them on our behalf. They would kill for us, and they would die for us. I trust every member of that guard implicitly."

Viserra was satisfied. Corlys was right. She had seen the Tide Guard's loyalty in action many times before. Her husband knew the names of many of them personally, and Viserra had striven to match him there. It was the least they deserved from them. The Tide Guard was exceedingly devoted to them. They were zealous, devoutly loyal, and enthusiastic in their duties. As fine a regiment as her father's Kingsguard. Yes, their most loyal and capable guards could certainly be trusted for a mission like this.

She sensed that Corlys wished her to stay a little longer, but she had to go. Their duties called. Apologetically, she pulled away from him and walked toward the door. "I'll arrange for dinner now Corlys. I'll see you there."

He nodded. "See you later darling."

______________________________________________________

Later that same day, Viserra had finally finished with her duties for the day. Immediately after leaving Corlys's solar, she had arranged for their dinner with the servants, tracked down Rhaekar and convinced him to come for dinner, and then had a rushed luncheon before cramming in as much work as she could into her afternoon. All in all, a pretty typical day in her life right now.

As she walked to the private dining room that had been reserved for their use, Viserra noticed one of the servants leaving the room humbly. He had the look of a Westerosi, tall and pale-skinned. She would admit to feeling pleased about that. Driftmarkers were more trustworthy than anyone else in this city.

"Princess." He bowed, noticing her presence.

"Well met good man. Are you our waiter for the evening?" Viserra asked kindly. She could not place the man's name, though she could swear she had seen his face before. She tried to memorize the names and faces of every single one of her servants, but when she was served by hundreds or even thousands of people, that was no easy task.

Growing up, her mother had impressed upon all her children the need to treat their servants with respect. Viserra hadn't fully understood that until she had visited Driftmark for the first time. The loyalty one could accrue was incredible, just a few simple words remembering a man's name and asking after his wife, and his sword would be yours forever.

To think, so often all that was needed to earn loyalty was to be polite and show basic respect to everyone. Of course, it was easier to give respect to those who gave it back. The servant was not wanting in that aspect. It was more than what many of the Towers gave her.

"No my princess. I was simply told to bring the wine. Another servant will be waiting on you this evening," the servant explained, his head still bowed in respect.

"Very well then. You may go. Have a good evening."

 "You as well Princess. Thank you," he said respectfully before walking off. As he did, Viserra noticed that he had a strange birthmark or a scar perhaps, near the jaw on his left cheek. It somewhat resembled a fiery heart. How peculiar.

Taking the last few steps, Viserra opened the door, nodding to the Tide Guard beside it, and stepped into the room. A moderately large round table had been luxuriously prepared. A finely dyed velvet tablecloth was draped over the table, which had a smooth pale stone top, carved from a single piece, and resting on an ironwood support and legs. Exquisite, such casual displays of wealth were strewn all over Tyrosh, and back home on Driftmark. It would be a dark day indeed if their wealth should decline so far that even these small luxuries would be denied to them.

She sighed as she noticed her husband sitting at the table nervously. His brother was opposite him, looking rather grumpy, like he'd rather be anywhere else. Must she do everything?

Viserra took her seat beside Corlys, and called for the food to be brought out. The waiter came out and laid their meal before them. A creamy and tarragon chicken, alongside roast beef, and stir-fried vegetables. All exquisitely flavored with spice. A rather small victory they still had over King's Landing in these times, but Viserra would take it.

Almost immediately, Rhaekar started eating. He took a knife and started cutting his chicken and his beef, and eating them. He seemed to be ignoring them. Viserra sighed. Was Rhaekar trying to be clever here and taking her at her word to have dinner with them?

The waiter came by and poured some wine into their cups, Myrish glasses, perhaps the last of their kind given the unrest in that city. Corlys thanked the waiter before turning to Rhaekar and trying to speak to him.

"Rhaekar I… I wanted to say…" Corlys said before he looked at his brother, stopping short. Rhaekar continued eating his food, completely ignoring him.

"Oh for gods' sake Rhaekar. You're a grown man. Act like it. This is your lord and elder brother. I asked you to have dinner with us so you can talk to him not ignore him as you scarf down your food," Viserra said, disappointed in Rhaekar's pettiness.

He sighed and took a deep sip from his wine glass. "I'm listening… but this is good food, might be the last spices we have for quite some time. Can't let it go to waste. Let's talk as we eat."

Viserra sighed. Corlys shrugged and made to take a sip from his own wine glass. Viserra stopped him.

"What? He's drinking already!" he demanded, gesturing to Rhaekar with his chin, who was happily eating his beef and sipping his wine with it.

"Rhaekar is trying to get himself drunk. And if both of you are, this conversation will be pointless. Say your part to him first, and then you can drink."

Corlys scoffed. "Fine," he said as he begrudgingly set down his glass. With nowhere else to run, Corlys looked at his brother and sighed before he spoke. "I'm sorry Rhaekar."

Rhaekar it seemed did not hear him. Frustrated, Corlys said it again, louder. "I said I'm sorry Rhaekar! I'm sorry for everything that's happened to us! That we have lost Velos and so much else, that Driftmark's splendor will be dimmed. And I'm sorry for my part in that. I made a mistake, I miscalculated. I assumed too much… and we are paying the price. Happy now?"

Rhaekar finally looked up. "I almost can't believe it," he said, surprise writ all over his face. "It must be the first time I've heard you apologize to me in a long, long time."

Despite himself, Corlys smirked. "Don't get used to it."

"Oh I'm savoring it, that's for sure," Rhaekar smiled before his smile died. "But does it matter?" You've apologized for getting us into this mess. What use is it if we can't get out?" he asked, despondent.

"That may not be completely true Rhaekar," Viserra assured. "My sister Saera has written to us, proposing a deal to trade with Driftmark in secret, taking advantage of her supposed reconciliation with our father to avoid suspicion. It could do much to help sustain Driftmark through the worst of this crisis. And with those funds freed up, we could put them to use paying for our occupation here in Tyrosh. Velos is a blow, a grievous one, but it need not be mortal."

Rhaekar was pensive. "You know – " He coughed suddenly, interrupting his words. He took another deep sip of wine to clear his throat before he continued. "That might actually work. I'll have to, kof, run the calculations, but it could work."

"You could run them on Driftmark itself," Corlys said with a pleased smile. "Viserra and I were thinking, that once Aurane comes – and he is coming, you were just too angry to read his letter – that you could return to Driftmark in his place, take a break from all the troubles in Tyrosh, see Irina and Vaemond and Vaella again, maybe write us a letter on how Jace and Luke and everyone else are doing. You could oversee everything that needs to be done on Driftmark, as you always have. Do your best in preserving our grandfather's legacy while the rest of us work here to continue it."

"That, kof, would be kof, nice," Rhaekar sputtered out, his words broken by a sudden coughing fit as he stood up and hacked his lungs away onto the floor.

Viserra and Corlys rose from their seats. "Are you alright Rhaekar?" she asked, concerned.

"I'm, kof, fine," he said, picking up his glass. "Just feeling like there's kof kof, like there's something in my throat. I, kof, I can't, kof…" Rhaekar's expression was growing panicked now.

The glass slipped from his hands and fell to the floor, shattering into a thousand pieces. Dark purple wine was sent running across the varnish. The doors immediately burst open as the Tide Guard rushed into the room, hearing the breaking glass, but there was naught they could do.

"He's choking!" Viserra said, distressed as she ran to her friend and desperately began pounding him on the back. Rhaekar was so desperate to breathe, he had fallen onto the floor, and cut his hands on the glass shards of his cup. His blood began to gush out and mix with the spilt wine.

"Guards!" Corlys shouted. "Bring the Maester quick!"

One of the guards ran off as fast as he could, the other stayed beside Corlys as he ran toward his choking brother. Rhaekar's hand's slipped on the glass shards and wine and he fell onto the ground on his side.

Corlys rushed to his side and helped Viserra turn him over onto his back, ripping the collar of his shirt open. Viserra had been kneeling on the ground as she had tried desperately to help Rhaekar. Her beautiful sea-green dress was stained with blood and wine.

Rhaekar began convulsing, his legs flying wildly, his body thrashing around as his fingers clawed at his throat desperately, his nails tearing gashes in the flesh. Blood began to ooze from his self-inflicted wounds. It was red, so red. Like a rose in a garden.

"Rhaekar! Rhaekar stop!" Viserra begged him, but he did not listen. His indigo eyes were full of fear and pain as he desperately gouged at his throat and tried to breathe. His face was beginning to turn purple now. Saliva and vomit oozing from his mouth.

Thinking quickly, the Tide Guard had taken one of the spoons from the table. Laying by Rhaekar's head, he and Corlys hurriedly pried his mouth open and forced it down Rhaekar's throat desperately, either to try and dislodge whatever was choking him, or help him breathe. To no avail.

A desperate wheezing cry sounded from Rhaekar then, the sound of air being desperately sucked through too narrow a gap. And then it stopped. The thrashing subsided, Rhaekar's fingers froze in place, never to move again. His body was still and his eyes were unseeing.

Viserra barely remembered the next few moments. It was like a dream, or rather a nightmare. Her blood and wine-stained hands touched her face, and she was surprised to find her face was wet. Oh. I'm crying. The realization did not stop the tears. It only made them flow more. Like a river that would not run dry.

The Tide Guard reluctantly pulled the spoon out of Rhaekar's mouth, his face full of shame and failure. Corlys took his brother's body into his arms. His hands and entire body trembled, his face full of anguish and grief as he looked into those cold unseeing eyes, so very much like his own. And then he screamed and Viserra's heart shattered even more to hear the agony in his rage. Corlys's scream was like the wail of a wounded animal, guttural and broken. It was the cry of a man who had lost everything.

Anguish became anger. Corlys rose to his feet and barked orders to their guard furiously, but Viserra did not hear them, or rather she could not understand them. Her mind was in a daze. The world her eyes saw felt distant from the world her mind felt. She knew she had to move now, there were things that had to be done, but she couldn't. She couldn't even lift a finger. Her mind wouldn't even think.

She did not know how long she was in that daze. Time felt like an eternity and an instant all at once. When she came to, Corlys was shaking her desperately, calling her name. The guard was gone, off to carry out his lord's bidding. Rhaekar's body was gone as well. Where had it gone?

"Viserra please!" Corlys begged.

"I'm here," she said, and her own voice sounded strange to her now. It was too calm, too relaxed. It shouldn't be right? It should be full of anguish, full of pain, and grief, and rage. Why wasn't it??

"You're in shock," Corlys explained before taking her into his arms, not caring at all that the stains of blood and wine that had soaked into her dress would dirty his doublet as well. He hugged her tightly, needily, almost painfully. 

"Don't touch the wine. It's poisoned. Better not eat the food either. Once you recover, I'll take you to wash up. We better not take any risks," Corlys instructed her.

Viserra's mind slowly began to work again as his thoughts sank in. "Poison?" she asked, stunned. Her mind was racing. Who… who would even dare?

"Yes. There's no doubt in my mind, and once Maester Desmond confirms it, I swear to you Viserra, I will make whoever is responsible for this pay. They will die in pain like Rhaekar did, begging for our mercy, and they will have none!"

There was anger in Corlys's eyes, rage and grief and the vindictive promise of vengeance all at once. Viserra felt none of it right now. That would come later. For now, she lost herself in Corlys's indigo eyes, so full of fury, so alive. So unlike Rhaekar's dead unseeing eyes. The same exact shade and shape, unmoving and still. It would haunt her dreams tonight, and every night hence.

Pitiful sad wails tore their way out of her throat and Viserra broke down into tears again. Corlys held her as she sobbed. Nestled her face in his breast as he wept with her. Their tears joined the blood, wine, and poison on the floor.