Of Schemes and Kisses

“Yes, Your Highness?” Petyr asked as he slid into Viserys’ chambers. He had been summoned by the prince and was already wishing that he did not have to show. The silver haired man had a tense stance and an anxiously creased face, which only made Petyr feel even more nervous.

“When I asked you to put an end to the wedding, I did not specify that murder was an option!” Viserys hissed while stomping across the room. He stopped before Petyr, glaring intently as he awaited an apology.

“And I did not attempt to kill her,” Petyr replied calmly before taking a step backwards to put some space between them. It was not a complete lie. He had of course given the order, but it was not on behalf of Viserys. He had hoped that the action would satisfy Margaery, and just so happen to meet Viserys’ demands at the same time even though it was not optimal for him. “Someone else is responsible for that attack, not me.” Viserys relaxed as he believed Petyr’s words but then crossed his arms.

“What progress have you made, then? Anything? I have not heard a word from you since, or seen Rhaenys struggle,” he pointed out and Petyr winced.

“The princess is proving to be good at concealing her secrets. I have been unsuccessful at finding any information worthy of cancelling her wedding.”

“So work harder. If you cannot find something soon, it may be too late,” Viserys ordered with a harsh tone that forced Petyr to bite his tongue so he did not say something regrettable. Instead, he bent his torso into a bow to dismiss himself.

“I will do my best, Your Highness,” he said before leaving. He hurried back to his favourite brothel, not only the most expensive and profitable one, but the establishment that had supplied him with plenty of secrets about the lords of Westeros over time. Petyr secluded himself in his quiet office and began to pace, attempting to visualise a different way he could put an end to the royal wedding and keep both of his customers content, but he was too on edge from Viserys’ confrontation to think straight. In attempt to calm himself and clear his mind, Petyr took a seat at his desk and began balancing his books.

It wasn’t until an hour later that he began to notice the peculiarity of a particular transaction that was occurring at random time intervals. Someone in the Red Keep was hiring two of his whores and paying a large sum of money to keep their identity a secret. Such an affair would typically not bother Petyr, as he held discretion in his brothels highly, but now he was curious as to who it was. Such information would be beneficial to him regardless of which high lord was hiring his whores, so he locked the books in his desk’s top drawer and walked downstairs.

“Desmera!” he called out when he spotted the blonde turning a corner down the hallway. She halted and forced a smile on her face that was so unconvincing it made Petyr second-guess how well she could do her job. “I need to ask you something.” He gestured her towards an empty room and Desmera nodded.

“Anything, my lord,” she said. Once the door was closed, Petyr took his time turning to face the whore as he wondered exactly how he should pose the question.

“I know that we have strict rules on confidentiality,” he began and Desmera nodded. “However, an occasion has risen where those rules need to be broken. I need to know who you and Jeyne visit in the Red Keep.” Desmera gasped and her gaze dropped to the floor.

“I could not say…” she mumbled.

“You must. It is of great importance,” Petyr insisted but Desmera shook her head.

“I am paid well to keep it a secret. They ensure that I have enough to feed my daughter, so they have my loyalty,” she justified and Petyr frowned.

“How old is your daughter now?”

“It is almost her third name day.”

“I suppose that you would not want me to sentence her to a life of whoring like her mother, would you? I could put you in great debt for refusing to tell me, or I could pay you a bonus for letting it slip who you give your services to. It is that simple,” Petyr threatened with a sickly sweet tone. The room fell silent as Desmera pondered her options.

“Where does this information go, if I say?” she whispered, refusing to look Petyr in the eye.

“To me, and me only,” he lied and Desmera nodded, convinced.

“I will need the bonus first.”

“After,” Petyr insisted and she exhaled.

“We meet with the princess,” Desmera confessed and Petyr tingled with excitement from the juicy secret.

“Which one?”

“Rhaenys,” Desmera clarified and she looked up to see the smirk on his face. “But I rarely participate. She mostly gives me coins to care for my daughter. Jeyne is the one who she likes the most.”

“And what happens, exactly?” Petyr asked and she hesitated.

“We mostly teach her things. She wants to be prepared for her wedding night,” Desmera replied but Petyr doubted her words. Nonetheless he nodded and found no reason to further interrogate the woman.

“I will add your bonus to your next pay,” he said before exiting the room, almost bouncing with joy from the secret he had stumbled upon.


As Rhaenys walked through the corridors of the Red Keep, she felt unusually on edge. At first it was just a gardener who had looked up from the plant he was watering to give her a disapproving glance as she strolled past, but the longer she walked, the more displeased faces she saw. She headed through the throne room to find the small council chambers, but when she was halfway there, the meeting was adjourned and the council members trailed through the door and headed towards her. Viserys was the first to pass her by, and he gave a kind acknowledging smile which turned into a smirk once his back was to her, incredibly gratified about the news that was spreading like wildfire around King’s Landing. The rest of the members, however, wore expressions of disappointment, and by the time Rhaenys reached her father who waited by the door for her, she was distraught.

“Come inside,” Rhaegar offered and she obeyed, entering the council chambers to find Varys, the Master of Whisperers, still in his seat.

“I have a feeling that I have missed something,” Rhaenys said to break the silence as she strode across the room. She got comfortable in a chair and looked expectantly at her father, hoping that the news was not too awful.

“We have a small issue,” he began. His disheartened tone was one that Rhaenys had heard plenty of times before. She had let him down yet again. “A rumour has come to light about you, daughter, one that threatens your wedding.” Rhaenys’ brow creased, uncertain of what she had done wrong as of late. She had been on her best behaviour ever since the Starks had arrived.

“A book was stolen from one of Littlefinger’s brothels a few days ago. No one knows by whom, or what their original intentions were, but on its pages were details of someone in the Red Keep hiring two whores,” Varys informed the princess and his words made her stare stiffen. “The whores have revealed who their client was. Your integrity is being threatened, Your Highness, whether or not their claims are accurate.” Rhaenys remained quiet as she absorbed the information, but Rhaegar interpreted it as guilt.

“Is it true, Rhaenys? Did you hire them?” he asked, the words hushed as he feared the worst.

“I did,” she acknowledged before holding her palm up to prevent either man from interrupting her. “But there is not much to say. One I only hired because after speaking with her, I felt pitiful. One of her clients had accidentally given her a baby, and she had no way to support the child aside from continuing to whore. Look at it as me merely giving her donations…” Rhaenys attempted to dismiss the situation, lessen its importance, but her father’s face had not relaxed.

“And the other, then?” he inquired and Rhaenys exhaled.

“The second whore did her job,” she replied, unable to dampen the blow. Rhaegar’s head dropped and Rhaenys lowered her gaze with a sigh.

“Why? Why did you do that?” Rhaegar questioned after a long pause.

“I am a young, rich, unwed woman; what did you expect?”

“I expected you to chat with Audrei or Daenerys and giggle about what it would be like to have a husband and then move on!” Rhaegar said, his voice raising as he clenched his fists. “This happened during your stay in Dorne, didn’t it? That is where you coined this idea.” Rhaenys resisted the urge to lash out as her father took another stab at Dorne, a beloved place to her for many reasons.

“Sexuality is embraced in Dorne, for both men and women, not shunned like it is here,” she responded, not giving a direct confirmation.

“As the princess of the seven kingdoms you should have had more sense than this! Your honour has been defiled because you failed to think the consequences through!” Rhaegar shouted and his tone made his daughter snap.

“It has not! I did consider what the consequences would be, and they were not drastic! Spending a little time with another woman, being taught about how to please my future husband, is not the same as whoring with a man. Everything is still intact for Robb, I swear it!” she yelled. She could see the rage in her father, what she knew Viserys would call the dragon’s fury, but she hoped that he would listen to her and understand.

“There is no guarantee that he or his family will still want you after they hear the news. I was hoping that you would come here and dispel the rumours and then Varys could plot to banish them from the minds of our people. But now I do not know what to do,” Rhaegar said sternly, his voice at a more reasonable volume. The room fell silent and all Rhaenys wished to do was to storm out and release her frustration with a good spear fight, but instead she looked to Varys.

“What can you do?” she wondered.

“As the king has already stated, it would be unwise for me to attempt to dispel the rumours if they are true. I can, and will, listen closely for any news on who stole the book and why. That may shed light on the situation, if this was an attack on you, Your Highness,” he answered and she nodded, also curious about the book. Rhaenys looked over to her father but he failed to meet her gaze, lost in thought.

“I will tell Robb myself. Perhaps if I explain it to his face he will understand and the wedding can continue,” she suggested and lilac eyes rested on her upset face.

“Very well. Let me know of the outcome…” Rhaegar reluctantly said once he failed to think of a better option. “You are both dismissed.” Varys and Rhaenys stood and hurried out of the room to leave the king to his distressed thoughts.

“Your Highness,” Varys called out as she passed the throne. She stopped and turned, seeing Varys glancing over his shoulder and scanning the great hall for company. Even though he was relieved to see that it was empty, he still took no chances and stood as close as possible to Rhaenys without making her uncomfortable and spoke lowly. “I hear many things, and I know that many are not content with your upcoming wedding.”

“Yes, the assassin made that clear.”

“Though many are not pleased with the prospect, they are being selfish. They wish to alter things to benefit themselves. What they do not realise is that this wedding needs to take place for the benefit of the realm as a whole,” Varys continued and Rhaenys narrowed her eyes.

“What exactly are you saying?” she questioned, hoping she was not misinterpreting him.

“I am saying that I am on your side through this mess. My knowledge and power are at your service, Your Highness,” he announced with a quick bow and Rhaenys managed to smile, glad that she was not as alone as she had originally thought.


Rhaenys tapped softly on the door to Robb’s guest chambers before slowly pushing the door open. A rush of warm air greeted her, pleasant compared to the hallways that were chilly despite containing plenty of flame torches, and she was delighted to see the room warmly lit by plenty of candles and the fireplace crackling near the bed. It had always been an extravagant chamber, but Robb’s personal touch had made it seem more welcoming. Rhaenys spotted her betrothed on one of the couches, glancing over his shoulder initially with shock, then quickly jumping to his feet to greet her. On the other couches were Theon and Jon, who hurriedly set down their mugs of ale before standing to attention the best they could.

“Rhaenys, what a surprise! Why are you here so late?” Robb questioned as he hurried across the room to her. Once she had closed the door, Rhaenys clasped her hands together in front of her waist, looking down at them and trying her best to act timid even though she felt a surprising amount of confidence from sneaking into his chambers during the night.

“I… well, I really needed to speak with you… No doubt you already know what about,” she began, pausing to see if Robb would confirm her suspicion.

“Do you mean the whispers of you bedding whores?” Robb guessed, wanting clarification even though he was fairly certain that he was correct. Rhaenys dropped her head slightly, attempting to portray that she was ashamed, but it sunk in that it did not feel right to her. She could not lie to her future husband; if she was to apologise and ask for forgiveness, she had to be honest with herself.

“I wanted to tell you myself that it is true. I dabbled in that for a short period of time, trying to learn how to please the man I would eventually marry,” she explained, feeling a slight blush creep across her cheeks as she noted that had she known at the time how handsome Robb was going to be, she would not have continued. “I was acting foolish at the time. I had just returned from a wonderful extended stay in Dorne with my uncles, and I think I tried to hold on to something from their culture. I am half Dornish, and I am not ashamed of my actions even though the other six kingdoms will no doubt look down upon me for them. I just wanted you to hear my side to the story, the truth, and know that I will still be all yours. I only spent time with another woman, that is all, I swear it.” Robb remained quiet after her lengthy confession and her stomach began to twist with anxiousness. Rhaenys stole a glance at Jon and Theon who appeared to be just as surprised as Robb was, which did nothing to calm her.

“I don’t know what to say, Rhaenys,” Robb finally muttered and she frowned, assuming the worst.

“I understand if you need some time to think, or wish to speak with your family…”

“It’s not that… I… I actually admire you for having the courage to tell me such a thing. It cannot have been an easy task,” he said as he reached out and took her hands in his.

“Does that mean…?” Rhaenys trailed off, having not mentally prepared herself for acceptance, only rejection.

“Ever since I first laid my eyes upon you, I understood that you were unique. Having talked with you since then, I have come to appreciate how interesting you are. I never had a desire to wed a classic lady, the ones they write stories about, and you are far from those examples,” Robb explained and Rhaenys started to feel considerably better about the whole ordeal, so much so that a grin was beginning to turn the corners of her lips upwards. “If you say that you honour is intact, then I believe you, and I am not discouraged. I believe that you never had bad intentions.”

“What will your parents think?” Rhaenys asked, addressing the one last issue she felt may rise.

“I will convince them to look past it,” Robb offered and then Rhaenys exhaled with relief. She rose her hands to her face, covering her nose and surprised smile as she took a moment to let her betrothed’s words sink in.

“I did not expect that as your answer,” she admitted, incredibly grateful that she had not entirely disappointed her father.

“Well, I am being honest, so please stop your worrying; you look much prettier with a smile on your face,” Robb attempted to comfort her and Theon smirked, almost jealous over how smoothly Robb had delivered the compliment.

“Thank you, for everything,” she said, still astonished that the conversation had gone so well that she could hardly think straight. “I, uh, should head back before my Kingsguard comes looking for me. This was perhaps another foolish idea, visiting you so late.” She chuckled and Robb nodded, agreeing that she should leave.

“Goodnight,” he said and she repeated the words before hurrying back to her own chambers. Jon and Theon relaxed back onto the couches and Jon swished back a good few gulps of his ale as Robb returned to his seat.

“That was pleasantly surprising,” Theon eventually spoke to break the silence, his twisted smirk revealing to the other two that he was picturing Rhaenys with a whore. “She is going to be more experienced than you on your wedding night.”

“I know,” Robb groaned before running a hand over his face. “You have to tell me what to do, I’m desperate now.” Robb finally admitted that he was lacking knowledge that Theon had, but instead of taking the opportunity to boast Theon simply did his best to give tips to Robb, and Jon remained quiet.