Aegon stood at the study window, gazing at the silent outline of the city outside.
The bloodshed in the backstreets and the miracle of the newborn dragons had both been shrouded in darkness for the time being.
He needed to deal with the aftermath and set everything back on its intended course.
"Send someone in."
A guard appeared soundlessly in the doorway.
"Bring Lya here."
"Yes, Your Highness."
Lya was brought in shortly afterward. She wore a clean but plain gray cloth dress, her long silver-gold hair tied simply behind her head, exposing her slender neck and a face with distinctly Valyrian features, though prolonged malnutrition had left it far too gaunt.
Her eyes were lowered, her hands clasped before her, her knuckles slightly white with tension.
Ever since Aegon had recognized her faint Brightflame bloodline in the Golden Company's camp, her life had changed beyond recognition.
She no longer had to live in fear among mercenaries or worry about her next meal. She had a clean room and enough food and clothing.
But she also understood that behind this "care" lay strict supervision and an unpredictable fate.
From Myr to Tyrosh, and then to Lys, she had always been kept behind the army's lines, like a precious object that needed to be stored safely.
Summoned at such a late hour, her heart rose into her throat.
"Lya." Aegon turned, his calm gaze settling on her.
"Your Highness." Lya immediately curtsied, her voice faint and unmistakably timid.
"Starting tomorrow, you will serve Princess Daenerys as her handmaid." Aegon came straight to the point without any unnecessary pleasantries. "Your main duty will be to help the princess care for the three newborn dragons."
Lya jerked her head up, her pale purple eyes filled with incredulous shock.
*A handmaid? The princess's handmaid?