Chapter 44: Failure

Sixth Moon, 109 AC

Jacaerys

He'd known it was coming, but somehow his uncle announcing it in open court just made it all so much more real.

The reactions were mixed. Some like their trusted allies, Starks, Tarths, Graftons, Royces, and Celtigars, were either pleased or disappointed that they didn't get something more substantive. Jace acknowledged his family's friends with nods and mouthed words of thanks. Caeryn and Caspian Celtigar along with many others that he was acquainted with from his family's allies were giving supportive glances from across the throne room. Jace had to crush the disappointment that Cassandra was not among them, she had gone back to Claw Isle immediately after his grandfather's funeral and they had barely had an opportunity to speak, let alone spend time together.

Not everyone was supportive however. Many, in fact the majority he would say, were looking at the King aghast and staring at Jace and his family with eyes filled with rage and jealousy. It was such a contrast. In their own domains, no one dared to pay them the slightest disrespect. Here in King's Landing? Disrespect and hatred was in no short supply and these arrogant nobles taunted them from behind the protection of the Targaryens. Jace remembered with a steaming fury of his own of how the nobles had vehemently denounced his family and protested the original compromise they had worked out with his uncle.

Even now he could feel the fiery glares and the judging stares of the realm. Hightowers, Redwynes, Lannisters, and so many more besides. The message was clear, he and his family were not welcome here, they were not like them. They were the other, the foreigners. Perhaps it was time that they embraced that.

Why did his parents and siblings let all the hatred and insults go unanswered? Why did they cling so hard to Westeros when it rejected them over and over again? Why couldn't they just leave it all behind for a better place? Why didn't Jace himself? In Tyrosh they were loved and revered, all but worshipped, Tyrosh was where he had grown up, and deep in his heart Jace felt like it was where he belonged more than Westeros. The hostility of the Westerosi nobles was just cementing that in his mind.

Court was still in session, but Jace couldn't take it any longer. He excused himself and stormed out from the Great Hall. He didn't know where he wanted to go, he just knew that he wanted to be anywhere but in that room.

He heard hurried footsteps behind him and turned around, immediately on guard in case it was an attacker. By instinct his hand moved to the grip of his trusted blade Seafang. Thankfully, it was unnecessary.

"Anything wrong?" his trusted brother and twin asked. Some of the Tide Guard was walking some distance behind him, close enough to guard them but maintaining a distance to respect their privacy.

Jace shook his head. "No Luke. My apologies for worrying you." He sighed. "I just didn't want to stay in that room with all the stares and glares any longer."

His twin smiled softly. "I understand."

As he looked at his brother's meticulously well-groomed hair and impeccable dressing, so different from his own style, he felt the slightest twinge of wistfulness and regret. Once they had been thick as thieves, always dressing and speaking the same way, enough so as to confuse people on who was which, but after Luke had started squiring for Ser Jaremy, he had rapidly changed, as if seeking to distinguish himself from him. He didn't begrudge Luke this but a part of him felt saddened by it, wondering if he had done something wrong.

Still despite no longer looking identical, Jace liked to think they were still close, and as he always was, Luke was there for him when he needed him. They walked together for a while, with no destination in mind really. Finally, Jace began to vent his frustrations once they were in an open staircase. The Tide Guard had moved to secure the exits of the staircase to ensure their conversation would remain reasonably far away from eavesdropping ears.

"This new agreement is a watered down swill," he whispered harshly. "Nothing more than a pathetic consolation prize our uncle gave us because he failed to keep his house in line. It gave us nothing that we actually wanted!"

"And yet what it did give us, it gave for free," Luke countered. "That's why all the nobles were so infuriated. Our uncle has in effect, given us favorable border and jurisdiction adjustments, recognized our independent rule of Tyrosh, and gifted us two dragonriders, for nothing, just for a chance that peace will prevail. Jace, this is an incredible offer. I'm not surprised our parents were tripping over themselves to accept. You were grumbling over us surrendering our sovereignty in Tyrosh. Well that hasn't happened, it may not ever. What is your complaint?"

"You weren't there Luke! Not when we negotiated the first deal. It's true, I wasn't happy that we were giving up independence in Tyrosh, but the deal Uncle Aemon first promised us made me actually believe. It made me think that maybe, just maybe the peace that our parents hoped for could be realized. Instead, we have been betrayed by the Targaryens for a second time, and they continue to do nothing!"

Even at the negotiations, a part of him had thought that something was wrong. He'd shadowed his mother and father for years as their heir, taking part in important negotiations and learning how to rule at their side. He'd expected Cousin Rhaenys and Lady Jocelyn to be at the negotiations as well. When they hadn't been, he had been surprised but he'd let it go and allowed himself to not think much about it. The Targaryens might have done things differently, he had reasoned.

Lo and behold, he was right to have worried. Rhaenys and Jocelyn were among the fiercest opposition to the arrangement and like a fool his uncle had not consulted his own wife and heir, or even been willing to put his foot down and make them obey him. Jace had let down his guard. He should have seen it coming.

He just felt so infuriated with the Targaryens. All of them. They were a house of arrogant princelings and ineffective rulers. Kings who broke their word, who offered things that were not theirs to give, and promises that they could not, or would not enforce upon their family members. Princes and princesses who defied their head of house and disobeyed them openly, who insulted and degraded their kin.

"The House of Targaryen is a den of deceit. Arrogant fools who cannot see reason. Snakes who keep deceiving us and our parents keep falling for their lies, over and over again, despite knowing better," Jace said bitterly.

"You have to have faith Jace. I know you've had your disagreements with them before, but our parents have never truly ignored your opinion have they? I trust that they know what they're doing, that they are as angry as you and I about this turn of events. And I trust that if they haven't realized it yet, they will when you bring it to their attention. Is my trust misplaced?" Luke demanded.

"No," Jace said, and he realized that he truly meant it. For all of his complaints, his parents had heeded his words many times before if he had argued his stance with reason and logic. Vaemond's marriage was one such time.

The difference in how his parents ruled and how the Targaryens ruled was like night and day. His parents held a firm and unquestioned control over their house and yet they also consulted and worked with the rest of them, asking them for their opinions and making them want to follow their vision instead of just being ordered to. House Velaryon was governed and governed others as a joint effort between every member of their house who was expected to contribute in some way or another. It was just another part of why he admired his parents so much and strove to match their accomplishments.

On the other hand, the Targaryens squabbled and bickered, with kings who ignored their heirs and did not consult them, and with heirs who openly and blatantly defied their fathers' wills. But maybe he was being too harsh on the Targaryens. Maybe this was just a representation of how the nobility in Westeros were like in general. They sought to imitate what his family had accomplished without truly replicating what they had done to succeed. How backwards.

Luke continued. "Jace, are you sure that your complaints with this deal aren't really rooted in something else? Like our betrothals perhaps?"

"Don't get me started on those. We were promised that Laena would Queen and that the eldest princess would be my bride, and we're getting two nieces instead. It's a slight!"

"A slight ordinarily perhaps, but when you consider dragons, we are being gifted two riders. Maybe even two dragons as well if they are allowed to claim Moondancer and Morning from the pit," Luke whispered, afraid of being overheard.

"Baela and Rhaena are twelve," Jace hissed.

"So?" Luke asked, frustrated. "You're grasping at straws now Jace. If we had gotten Rhaenyra's hand, there would be no difference. She is also twelve! Our betrotheds will not be twelve forever Jace, they will mature, and knowing our family, into great beauties as well. A difference of eight years between us and our brides to be is nothing compared to six and ten between our parents."

"That's different," Jace insisted.

"How is it different, pray tell?"

"Our mother was a woman grown of seven and ten when she met our father. She was not a young and impressionable child and her parents did not yet hate our father. Our goodparents to be already despise us. What do you think they'll fill our cousins' heads with?"

Luke was quiet at that.

"I just… I want to have a happy marriage like Mother and Father do. Is that too much to ask?" Jace asked bitterly.

His brother nodded, realization written on his face. With a hint of hesitation, he asked, "Is this about Cassandra?"

Jace was silent for a few moments and Luke did not press him to answer. Finally, he spoke. "Cassie… Cassie is lost to me now. Deep down I always knew this day would come, but that doesn't make it hurt any less."

Even maintaining a friendship with Cassandra would be difficult now. Their history would make it inappropriate for them to remain so close and their intendeds would be greatly displeased by it. Cassie was the past and he… he had to accept that.

Luke's face was full of sympathy and sorrow on his behalf. "I'm sorry Jace. I know how much you loved her. But you know what our father always said. Love is the death of duty – "

"The bane of honor," Jace finished. "And yet Father was fortunate enough to find such great love with our mother. We all grew up with that Luke. All our lives we've seen how much our parents love and support each other, how they make each other stronger, better. How could the four of us have ever wanted anything less than that? It's pointless to hope for it I suppose, especially now that we're betrothed to Daemon's daughters of all people," he said, downcast.

"Maybe Daemon and Gael will fill their heads with poison against us, but we can't give up Jace," Luke said. "For the sake of our house, and for our own happiness and wellbeing, we have to try and make them see beyond it. It's not impossible. You've been distracted by Rhaenyra's fawning I know, but I've been keeping Baela and Rhaena and even Helaena entertained these past few months. They're good kids, sweet and fierce as well. They don't seem to hold any ill feelings against us."

Jace nodded. "I hope that remains the case," he said as he looked at his brother in gratitude. "Thank you brother… for everything."

Luke smiled and placed his hand on Jace's shoulder. "Always Jace. I'll always have your back."

Jace nodded but he did not return to the throne room. The sounds of steel clashing drew his attention. He continued down the staircase into the courtyard below, realizing that he was close to the training yard.

"What's going on ser?" he asked the Tide Guard who had positioned himself at the foot of the staircase. Above him the other three Tide Guard that had posted themselves at the top of the stairs were rushing down to join them.

The Tide Guard leaned over to him. "Prince Daemon is sparring in the yard my lord."

Jace raised his eyebrow. "He didn't attend court?"

"It seems not. Some of the gold cloaks are here, and some other nobles and knights from across the realm."

"I see," Jace said. His cousin seemed to have some anger he needed to work out today because he was cutting apart his sparring partners brutally, with a rage in his eyes and bearing. Despite his dislike of the man, Jace had to respect and even admire his skill. Even distracted by his rage, Daemon expended no unnecessary energy nor did he seriously injure any of his sparring partners.

Without fully realizing it, Jace had approached the spar, close enough for Daemon to notice him once his latest opponent yielded. In his usual mocking tone, he spoke up.

"Well now, if it isn't my favorite seahorse cousin! Gentlemen if you didn't know, this is none other than the extraordinary Jacaerys Velaryon," Daemon said.

Some of the gold cloaks and other nobles laughed, though Jace didn't really understand why. Still he understood that Daemon was mocking him and was none too pleased.

"If it isn't my favorite landless prince!" Jace taunted back and the mood among the gold cloaks began to sour.

The smirk never faded from his face but the fury had returned to Daemon's eyes. Jace felt no small amount of pleasure seeing it. "What do you want?" Daemon demanded. "Come to gloat now that you have my daughters?"

Ah, so that was this anger was about. Jace was tempted to make a jibe at him about it, but he begrudgingly decided against it. As satisfying as it would be to egg Daemon on about the matter, it would be counterproductive to his and Luke's hopes to build a somewhat decent relationship with their betrotheds and frankly his parents had taught him better than that.

"No matter what you may think of me cousin, I wouldn't stoop that low. No it's for a simpler reason. You are a right prick, but begrudgingly I must admit you are a sight to see with the blade. I respect that skill at the very least," Jace answered.

Daemon seemed to have a genuine smile at these words but there was now a glint in his eyes that Jace did not like at all. "Well, I'm shocked but flattered by your words cousin. Thank you, your praise fills me with joy," he said dramatically with a mocking bow.

Jace scoffed and was about to leave when Daemon called out to him again. "Care for a bout?"

He turned around. "A what?"

Daemon's eyes were fully focused on him now. "A bout. My father told me once that you find your true friends on the battlefield. Those are hard to come by in these days of peace but this training yard could suffice I think.

"Come, spar with me. You are to be my goodson! I would not have us part on these bad terms. Let us resolve our differences in the yard, as men. You can see for yourself what my skills with the blade are like."

Before Jace could say anything, Luke leaned into him. "This is a bad idea Jace. Don't do it."

Daemon however noticed. "Come now Jacaerys, surely you are not going to hide behind your brother? Is this the measure of Jacaerys Velaryon? Son and heir of the Sea Snake and the Sea Dragon? A craven who backs down from the first challenge at his younger brother's command?"

The men in the yard began laughing uproariously at Daemon's words. Jace scowled. They were mocking him! If they wanted to see what his measure was, he'd damn well show them!

"You're on! Live steel or dull?" Jace accepted the challenge.

Beside him, Luke sighed heavily. The Tide Guard looked a little worried.

Daemon laughed. "Live steel of course cousin. Are you a man or not? Green boys train with dull swords, real men train with real steel, sharp steel."

Jace smirked. "If you want to play that way, I'll be using this," he said as he drew Seafang from its scabbard. The smoky swirls of Valyrian steel were on proud display, looking much like the sparse clouds in the skies above giving the training yard shade from the sun.

He saw the envy and anger in Daemon's eyes and wanted to laugh vindictively at the sight. "Valyrian steel. Not a problem for me I assure you. In fact, care for a wager?" Daemon asked.

It was Jace's turn to laugh now. "You'd have to be mad to think anyone would wager Valyrian steel in a training yard spar of all things cousin."

"Afraid you'll lose?" Daemon taunted.

Jace narrowed his eyes but he refused to bite the bait. Wagering Valyrian steel was the height of stupidity. "Are we going to fight or not? We'll see who loses then," Jace replied.

Daemon sighed dramatically. "It was worth a try at least. Get ready cousin. Five minutes until we spar."

Jace nodded before he moved to the armory to put on the proper attire and protective padding for a training spar. Luke was quick on his heel.

"Jace! Don't do it. There's still time to back down. He's egging you on!"

"Luke, I know he is. But it's too late to back down now. I will embarrass myself and our whole house in front of a whole host of strangers and you will never see me doing that. All will be well when I put our arrogant cousin in his place."

"Jace you don't understand!" Luke pleaded. "You are good, but Daemon is better. I've watched him in the yard a few times. His technique and form is flawless, and he has more experience than you. You will lose Jace! And with live steel involved and Daemon as unpredictable as he is, I don't know what could happen!"

"Have you so little faith in me brother?" Jace demanded. "Whether I lose or not does not matter, so long as I conduct myself with honor and prove that I am capable of defending our house with action and not merely words."

Luke sighed. "You have some chance to win I suppose. Daemon is good but he's not Kingsguard level good and above all, he is arrogant. He likes to show off his victories to the crowd and that exposes him to counterattacks and can lose him a match if he isn't careful. Against you? He'd enjoy doing that even more."

"Noted," Jace said. "Thanks for the help."

Luke smiled tiredly and shook his head amusedly, but the worried expression did not leave his face even as Jace walked out into the yard.

Daemon was waiting for him when he returned to the sparring ring.

"Rules," Jace demanded.

"The match will be until first yield. If blood is drawn, no points will be counted. One step out of this ring," he said as he gestured to the ring in question with his castle-forged sword, "will be considered a yield."

"Very well then," Jace said, accepting the terms. "Let us begin."

Daemon grinned. In an instant he was upon him, his blade slicing swiftly through the air as Jace desperately parried, put on the back foot of the duel immediately. An overhead cut came for his head and Jace parried it with Seafang, stepping forward to the side to unbalance Daemon but he saw his move and guided his blade low to try and cut at Jace from below.

Barely parrying the blade with a backwards block over his shoulder, Jace stepped forward and turned around as quickly as he could so his back was no longer exposed to Daemon. Within a second Jace rushed forward, mindful to keep his footwork steady. He had seized the initiative of the duel, but it would all be for naught if he couldn't make use of it.

Luke was right, Daemon was good, but Jace could see some openings in his form now that he was actually sparring with him. There was a world of difference between seeing the openings and exploiting them however and as Jace attempted to seize one opening, he overextended and Daemon's blade bit into his left thigh.

"First blood goes to Prince Daemon!" one of the gold cloaks announced as Jace sank to his knees in agony, resisting the urge to groan at the sting of the cut. Daemon boasted to the gold cloaks' cheering.

"Ser Jacaerys, do you yield?" the gold cloak demanded.

Jace shook his head. "Like hell I'm yielding that easily," he said as he forced himself to his feet.

Immediately, they were back at it, their swords clashing like a song of steel. Daemon almost pushed him out of the ring several times but Jace nimbly avoided the traps and retaliated. As the duel continued however, he could feel his body tiring. It was not long before Jace was cut again, on his left arm as he pulled back too slowly from an overcommitted thrust.

Predictably, Daemon bragged to his cronies for a few seconds. "The great Jacaerys Velaryon everyone!" he mocked. Jace felt his anger boil at those words but he leashed it. Remembering Luke's advice, he noticed how for those few brief moments that he was bragging, Daemon was distracted. Luke was right, maybe he had a chance.

After a few more minutes, Jace finally got his first hit in, nicking Daemon on his right forearm, but it was at a cost as Daemon cut his right shin. A respite was called by both of them to dress their wounds. Jace narrowed his eyes as Daemon hissed, dabbing at his wound. Seafang had found its mark it seemed, biting deeper into his arm than either of them had expected.

Once the respite was over, Daemon attacked him with a newfound fury, but the injury in his sword arm had had an effect. His blows were weaker than they had been earlier and fatigue was getting to him.

Jace felt hope began to stir in his heart but he had hoped too soon. He saw the feint and adjusted his defense accordingly but while his mind had reacted fast enough, his body was slow to respond, leaving him with a gash on his arm.

Remembering Daemon's earlier distraction, Jace formed a split-second plan, betting on Daemon's arrogance. He feinted the extent of his injury and let out a slight moan of pain as he backed away dramatically.

Just as Jace expected, he began bragging to his cronies instead of moving in to finish the duel and make him yield. Perhaps he wanted to draw out this duel as long as possible to humiliate him or Daemon was simply that arrogant. Either way, it worked just fine for Jace's plan.

In those precious few seconds that Daemon was distracted, Jace felt a second wind and he rushed forward as fast as he can, careful to keep proper footwork so that he could exploit this opening. Daemon rushed around to face him but it was too late, Jace was upon him. Unbalanced, his defense was sloppy as Jace pressed his advantage, nicking Daemon on his arms and legs several times, not caring of any nicks he got in return. He had to press the initiative before his second wind ran dry.

With a slight flick of his wrist, Jace's sword bit into Daemon's right forearm with a slight bounce before immediately twisting his blade out of his hand, disarming him. As Daemon instinctively rushed for his sword, he found Seafang at his neck.

"The first lesson we learn when fighting. Never turn your back on an enemy," Jacaerys said victoriously, taunting Daemon. Daemon raised his hands in surrender.

"This duel ends, now. Yield!" Jace demanded as he straightened his arm and pressed Seafang closer into Daemon's neck, the sharp blade was beginning to ever so slightly draw blood from his skin.

"I yield," Daemon gritted out.

Jace dropped his sword exhausted and turned around, walking away. He had only a moment of rest before Luke called out however. "Jace behind you!"

Jace turned around in time only to see Daemon's fist in front of his face. He fell onto his knees, dazed from the punch, and Daemon was on top of him, savagely punching and beating at him. "You should have learned that lesson yourself, cousin!"

Around them, Jace heard chaos as the gold cloaks began to clash with his brother and the Tide Guard to keep them from interfering. He couldn't afford to wait for help. Remembering the weakness in Daemon's right arm, Jace exploited it, jabbing his fingers into the gash Seafang had left earlier and twisting.

Daemon screamed in pain and Jace took advantage of his distraction to sweep him off his legs. Getting on top of him, Jace began beating him to a pulp. Punch after punch, Jace hit as hard as he could, not caring that his knuckles and fists had begun to bleed. He lost count just how many times he had punched Daemon, only feeling the savage glee as he felt bone crumble beneath his knuckles when Daemon's nose broke.

Unfortunately, before he could reduce even more of Daemon's face to a pulp, Jace felt an arm wrap around his neck and begin choking as he was pulled off of Daemon. In the corner of his eye, he saw a cloak of gold. He fought for his life, biting and twisting against his assailant but soon two more had joined him and had begun beating Jace. They punched at his face and into his gut, making him cough and letting the noose around his neck tighten further.

"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS!?" Uncle Baelon's voice thundered.

The gold cloaks froze. Jace turned his head slightly and saw his uncle Baelon marching onto the scene with his cousin Aegon, three of the Kingsguard, and a host of the Red Keep castle garrison. His parents and younger siblings were there as well, accompanied by a full platoon of the Tide Guard they had brought to King's Landing.

His mother was furious. Jace had never seen her so angry before in his entire life. "Release my son at once or I will feed you to Dreamfyre!!" she shouted and the gold cloaks hurriedly released Jace and backed away from him, leaving him to fall on the ground and begin coughing as he desperately sucked air into his burning lungs. Jace's younger siblings rushed to him immediately, with Daeron helping him slowly to his feet while Laena fussed and worried over his wounds and started tending them gently.

"What happened here!? Lucerys!?" his father demanded. Jace noticed now that his twin had injuries of his own, though much less so than himself or Daemon.

"Daemon challenged Jace to a duel, live steel. I warned him not to but he accepted the challenge. With some luck, Jace managed to win by exploiting Daemon's arrogance, but after yielding Daemon attacked him with his fists when his back was turned. The guards and I had tried to move in to help Jace when the gold cloaks stopped us and we started fighting. Fortunately, the guard I had sent to inform you earlier had brought you in time because if not I fear the gold cloaks would have killed Jace and maybe even the rest of us as well!" Luke said. He glared at Jace's three assailants in particular, who had begun shuffling awkwardly.

"Daemon, what do you have to say for yourself?" Baelon demanded.

Daemon groaned as he was helped to his feet by his nephew Aegon. His nose was clearly broken and he had blood all over his face. Jace couldn't help feeling a little pleased at the sight. Daemon answered in a voice full of venom. "What do you think? Aye I challenged him to a duel, and then after he cheated by attacking me from behind, he broke my nose like a savage! He gravely injured a prince of the blood! I say he should lose a hand!"

"Was that before or after you punched him in the face?" Luke mocked Daemon derisively. He was not alone in his sentiments. Jace couldn't believe he had the audacity to lie so brazenly. His parents were glaring at Daemon with rage in their eyes, but Daeron and Laena appeared to have mixed feelings, staring at the uncertain Aegon standing beside his uncle still.

"Enough! I will have the truth of this!" Uncle Baelon declared before any argument could escalate. "Gold cloaks, you are the majority of the men here, you will speak now and you will speak true. If any of you dare to lie to me, I will feed you all to Vhagar myself!"

The gold cloaks, normally fiercely loyal to the Rogue Prince, quailed under the fury of Baelon the Brave. Their fear of death coaxed the truth out of them and little by little the true story came out. If Daemon could feel fear, Jace would say he was now, shrinking under his father's furious gaze.

"I want their heads Baelon! The men who attacked my boys must die!" his mother demanded. The men in question began to wail and beg for their lives but his mother had no mercy for them. A dragoness protected her own.

"Done," his uncle said. "The rest of the lot are unworthy to wear those cloaks as well. I'll have them dismissed from the City Watch and barred from it for the rest of their lives."

The wailing and shouts for mercy picked up now but there was none to be had. The Red Keep castle guards arrested all of the gold cloaks and Daemon and he were escorted to the castle infirmary to be treated by the Grand Maester. As they were being treated, Uncle Aemon came and berated both of them.

"You should be ashamed of yourselves! Both of you! Beating at each other with fists before the eyes of dozens of outsiders like commoners rolling in the dirt?? Have you no dignity or shame? No honor!?"

Jace glared at Aemon. He had absolutely no right to lecture him in his opinion, but he said nothing. He could tell Aemon's ire was mostly directed at Daemon not him.

"I will not have violence beneath my roof between my nephews!" Aemon declared. "Both of you will shake hands and make peace between yourselves, now!" he ordered.

Daemon protested vehemently and Jace spoke up as well. "Why should I? This bastard attacked me from behind after being defeated! He mocked me and my family!"

"Jace!" his mother bit out behind him and he growled, begrudgingly shaking Daemon's hand and apologizing to him. Daemon did the same, but from the hatred in their eyes both of them knew that words were wind. No peace had been forged today, only a rivalry and a hatred that would last for the rest of their lives.

"Viserra, I am sorry to ask you this, but I think it will be best if you and your family returned to Driftmark as soon as possible, separate these two miscreants and let tempers cool," Uncle Aemon said.

His mother agreed with a glare in her eyes for Daemon and a reprimand for Jace himself. "Yes, I think so too. We will leave on the morrow Aemon, and return for your coronation."

Daeron, Laena, and Aegon seemed to be upset at the news of their impending separation, but his uncle nodded in acknowledgement and once Jace's wounds were treated, his parents and siblings ushered him from the room. As they left, Aunt Gael looked at him with utter hatred in her eyes as she stormed past him to her husband, her worried children quick on her heels. He caught sight of his betrothed Baela and felt a smidgen of shame when she glared at him, groaning realizing what could have been jeopardized.

His troubles were not done yet however because as soon as they were sequestered in the privacy of their rooms, his mother sent Daeron and Laena away and tore into him behind closed doors.

"What were you thinking!?" she demanded. "I told you didn't I!? I warned all of you to be on your guard in King's Landing, to not let yourselves be dragged into stupid things like this! Explain yourself Jacaerys!"

"Daemon was provoking me!" Jace defended. "He's constantly mocking our family and myself! It was a matter of honor! There were precautions. It was a spar with the proper rules and equipment, and I won fair and square. How was I supposed to know that he would prove to be a dishonorable cur and attack me from behind after he yielded!?"

"You let yourself be put into that situation Jace! You agreed to duel with Daemon using live steel! What if you'd lost? What if he maimed you or even killed you? How stupid and brazenly reckless can you be? And even when you won, you let yourself be surrounded and outnumbered by enemies! People who hated you! If I was a minute later I would have arrived to find you dead!

"Do you understand? My eldest son almost died beneath my very nose! I thought I was going to die when the Tide Guard your brother sent informed your father and I. Why couldn't you have just let it be Jace? Why couldn't you have just walked away like Luke urged you to? Why do you care so much what Daemon says?" his mother pleaded.

"Because I'm not a craven! I don't back down from a challenge against my house and honor! I don't roll over and let myself be stomped over, take insult and insult from a house that has threatened to destroy me and mine and betrayed us over and over again, unlike some people I know!" Jace retorted.

His mother recoiled. There was an edge in her voice and it was tinged with hurt. "People like me?"

Jace's fury had betrayed him. He desperately tried to backtrack. "No, Mother, I didn't- "

She held up her hand to stop him in his tracks and for the briefest of moments he thought that she would strike him. But the blow never came. Jace opened his eyes and was shocked. There were tears in her eyes; how often did he ever see her cry? "No Jace. Not today. I don't know who you are today because the son I raised wasn't an ingrate who spits on everything I gave up for him."

And with that, she left. Jace expected his father to say something, anything, but the silent look of disappointment on his face was more crushing than any reprimand could have ever been. He followed his mother out the door. Only Luke remained in the room with him now.

Searching for anything, anyone to blame that wasn't himself, Jace rounded on Luke. "I thought you had my back?" he demanded.

Luke's eyes, so similar to his, simmered. "I do. You think I got these bruises by being a bystander?"

"Then why does Mother think that? How could she possibly have taken that meaning unless you told her something Luke!?"

His brother snapped. "Because unlike you, Mother isn't an idiot! She has eyes! She has the basic ability to read a situation, to guess at what people truly mean and ascertain their true intentions and thoughts, and that's something you seem to be sorely lacking.

"This isn't new Jace. You've been walking around like you've got a chip on your shoulder for months, and our parents can see that. I didn't have to say anything to them, they already knew. You've been a right prick today and I hope you realize that if you keep this up, you'll end up driving away everyone who loves you!" Luke shouted before he stormed off.

Jace was left alone, steaming in rage, and then guilt, and then shame. He'd done the one thing he had sworn he'd never do. He'd let down his parents, he'd let down his siblings. He'd disappointed them and disgraced his house. Jace had failed, and he had never felt so unworthy of being the heir to his family's legacy than he did now.