The door next door was kicked open with a crash.
Daemon burst out, his clothes disheveled, his silver hair a tangled mess, and a vivid red lipstick mark still on his face. Then he rushed to the door on the right and kicked that one open too, only to see his niece Rhaenyra standing by the window with his nephew Aegon in her arms. His expression changed instantly.
"Rhaenyra! Don't-"
Before he could finish, another loud crash came from downstairs.
Some "idiot" had thrown a huge bucket of water onto the fire. Flames surged upward, and thick smoke billowed out, stinging everyone's eyes shut.
Daemon coughed twice in the choking smoke and reached for Rhaenyra's arm.
Rhaenyra instinctively took a step back and toppled over the windowsill.
Wind whistled past her ears. She hugged Aegon tightly and closed her eyes, with only one thought in her mind-We're done for.
But she did not hit the ground.
Someone caught her safely.
No, not just someone. Several people had stretched out a thick linen sheet ahead of time, gripping its four corners firmly. Like a great net, it caught her securely in the middle.
Rhaenyra opened her eyes to a familiar face: Ser Arryk Cargyll, the Kingsguard who should have been standing outside her room at this very moment tonight.
Oh no. We've been caught, Rhaenyra thought. Then she silently closed her eyes again, as though resigning herself to her fate.
Only Ser Erryk was here, which meant his twin brother, Ser Alek, had most likely gone to "tell on" the siblings to their father, Viserys.
Viry Fell knelt on one knee before her, with several young soldiers in gold cloaks behind him. Firelight flickered across their faces, but their expressions were strikingly alike-calm and composed, as though they had expected all