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Mysaria watched dispassionately as the man on the floor spat out the blood he’d just coughed up. That wasn’t a good sign. She hoped he didn’t die, at least, not until he answered her questions.
“Well?" she asked, a touch of impatience in her voice.
“Fuck you.” He heaved.
She held up a hand before Clive could land the kick he’d already reared back to deliver. A part of her was impressed. Usually, these lowlife rats were quick to turn on anyone who got in the way of their survival. But a bigger part of her was beginning to grow frustrated at his lack of cooperation and there was no way in the seven hells she would offer him money.
“I’m intrigued. You’re protecting someone and you and I both know you would never risk yourself for your associates. So, it must be someone important enough to fear. Or someone with a lot of money, maybe both. So that rules out most of the city’s residents.” She took a sip of her drink, pretending to be deep in thought.
She’d seen the slight tensing of his shoulders when she mentioned the money, so it was definitely someone rich. She could press there she supposed, but really, other than a few merchants, no one in Flea Bottom could be considered rich enough to warrant this stubborn silence unless they had the backing of a noble, the way she’d once had with Prince Daemon. That’s when it clicked.
“Who is it? Which one of the noble lords has decided to make our city his playground?” Mysaria asked coldly.
Clive grabbed the man by his neck and hauled him up to face her. The man struggled desperately against his grip but it was futile. Clive was at least a foot taller and twice as large and once he had you, you were caught.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He forced out.
“I think you do so I won’t insult us both by repeating myself.” Mysaria said.
“What the fuck is it to you anyway lady? They’re just a bunch of street kids.” He spat in frustration.
She stiffened at his words. First, they were not just a bunch of street kids. Yes, they ran around the streets begging and picking pockets, but that was the least people did to survive in the city. Someone like him, who she’d bet had picked more than one pocket in his time, should know that. Secondly, she only liked it when one person called her lady and it sure as hell wasn’t him.
“Those street kids are my responsibility.” Mysaria informed him.
Technically that wasn’t true, or not completely. She’d only recently tried to implement her own solution to the problem of those disappearing kids. One of the reasons they were on the streets was because they lacked a home. Whether they’d never had one, or could no longer stay in the one they did have, didn’t matter. They’d made the streets their home and as such, had become easy prey to men like this.
“Yeah, and who are you? The Mother?” he asked snidely.
Mysaria gave a small smile at that. She could appreciate his bravado, but she didn’t miss the flicker of fear in his eyes the longer she stared silently at him.
“There are others I can get answers from. I hope your masters appreciate your loyalty. You died protecting their interests after all.” She said, nodding at Clive.
That was all it took. It was easy to be brave when you figured you held valuable information. But when you realized you were one of many, then the balance tipped out of your favor. For all his posturing before, she was sure he would have called her bluff because that was what it was. It had taken her and Clive two moons for the trail they’d been following to lead to him. That was why she’d been sure they would be dealing with more than just the small time criminals of Flea Bottom.
“Wait please. Just wait!” he begged, cringing away from Clive. “Look I don’t know who it is ok? They just pay me to grab the kids. I grab them and I hand them off, get paid and I’m on my way.”
“Hand them off to who?” Mysaria asked.
“This guy they call The Blade. He’s a crazy fucker. He takes the kids and next time I see them is in the fighting pits. I don’t know nothing else.” He whimpered.
She shared a look with Clive. The Blade was well known for his cruelty and willingness to do just about anything if it was depraved enough. Surprisingly, he was not a frequent visitor to the pleasure houses and the few run ins she’d had with him while out on errands did not justify killing him. While she was sure no one would mourn his loss, she did hold herself to a certain standard. To kill someone based on rumors and a few bloody brawls would be beneath her. This however, changed things.
The man suddenly began to laugh. He’d caught the look between them and had obviously mistaken it for fear.
“Yeah that’s right. I’d look the other way if I were you. The Blade will kill you if you get in his business.” He sneered.
Mysaria ignored him, already thinking of a plan to lure The Blade to her. The man showed no interest in pleasure and he already had dealings with someone with deep pockets, deeper than her own surely, so gold would not bait the trap. She supposed she could have him followed and forcefully brought to her but that would be risky. Most of the fighters in her employ were brawlers like Clive, but The Blade was fast and precise with the daggers he always kept on him. One mistake from the men she sent and it would be over.
“You’re crazy if you think you can take him on. I don’t know what the hell is with everyone lately getting in our business. First The White Worm, now you?” He spat blood again, breathing hard.
“Excuse me?” Mysaria’s voice was soft, and the criminal obviously missed the chill in it that would have served as a warning to anyone who knew her.
“Yeah Blade figured out she’s the one who’s been keeping the kids out of his reach. At first he was upset because he didn’t know who was moving against him but now he knows and he’s pissed. Whoever he answers to obviously ain’t happy either. They put a bounty on her head. So, if you’re smart, you’ll mind your fucking business before they put one on yours.” He grinned, red teeth making him look almost menacing.
Mysaria exchanged another look with Clive. They hadn’t heard about the bounty. So, either it was new, or it was only being sent to certain types of people. If assassins were hunting her now, it would be a problem.
“You’ve suddenly become a fount of information.” Clive growled, shaking him.
“What do I have to lose? We’re just pawns in the game of the bigger players. Between The Lord, The Blade and The White Worm, we might as well not even exist. I’m trying to do you a favor here.” The whine in his voice was beginning to get on her nerves.
“I do not need favors from the likes of you.” Mysaria said coldly.
He must have finally registered the tone of her voice because he froze and stared. She watched as his tiny brain finally began putting the pieces of the puzzle together, because in the next moment his eyes widened and suddenly Clive wasn’t the biggest threat in the room.
“You’re her.” He squeaked. “The White Worm.”
Clive’s fingers tightened around his neck as Mysaria stood.
“Thank you for the information. I’m happy to know your masters are frustrated. They will be even more so in the coming weeks.” Mysaria said as she walked towards them.
“Wait. Wait! Are you crazy? You can’t take them on.” He stuttered, moving closer to Clive in an attempt to keep space between them.
“I can and I will. You and The Blade are nothing but traitors. Since when did we bow our heads to the whims of the Highborns? Since when did we sacrifice each other for their amusement? I will root out every single one of you who sold those children for a purse of gold and make you regret it.” Mysaria hissed.
“And what about The Lord? You can’t touch him even if you find out who he is. Everyone knows you no longer have Prince Daemon’s favor.”
Mysaria thought fleetingly of Rhaenyra. But as quickly as her face flashed in her mind she dismissed it. She would not endanger the princess by bringing her anywhere near this situation. Besides, she didn’t need Daemon or Rhaenyra to deal with this. Flea Bottom was her city. Fancy lords believed the circumstances of their birth made them untouchable. But more than one lord and lady had been swallowed by the underbelly of the city. So, what was one more?
“You can ask him what happened when The Stranger reunites you with him.” Mysaria answered.
She watched his eyes widen, fear replacing all the bravado he’d tried to muster. A loud crack echoed in the room and Mysaria watched the light leave the man’s eyes as Clive dropped him to the ground. She raised a brow at her friend, but only got a shrug in response. Shaking her head she stepped over the lifeless body and headed for the door. She was late.
“Off to see your Princess?” Clive called out.
“You sound disapproving.” Mysaria paused.
“I keep telling you it’s a dangerous game you’re playing. I still can’t believe you took her around the city at night.” Clive chided.
“She wants to help her people and she’s sincere about it. Why should we ignore the opportunity? Especially since she will be Queen in the future.” Mysaria replied, facing him.
“Will she? You know The Hand is already working against her.” Clive reminded her.
“I do. And so does she. She’s not as naïve as you think.” Mysaria defended, thinking of the times Rhaenyra surprised her with how insightful she was.
“I know you care for her. But she’s still highborn. The highest. She’s not one of us. Do you really think she would agree with how you intend to handle this situation? Have you spoken to her about it?”
“Of course not. She knows about the pits but that’s it. And she offered to have guards dispatched to help stop it.”
“As if that would work. Half of them, the so called gold cloaks, can usually be found observing the fights.” Clive scoffed.
“I know. But the sentiment was appreciated all the same. I’ll be back later tonight. Clean that up please?” she gestured to the body on the floor before leaving.
“Be careful.” She heard Clive murmur and silently thanked her friend for his concern.
He was not wrong. Mysaria had spent the last few moons telling Rhaenyra about her people. Their plights, their joys, their expectations, and the Princess seemed to soak up every word. But she was still only her father’s heir and her power was limited. There were even those who would see Rhaenyra’s young half brother on the throne before her, and while Mysaria had begun to station more of her people closer to Rhaenyra and The Red Keep in general, there was only so much she could do while Otto Hightower plotted in secret and had influence on the King. She could only watch and listen.
Mysaria kept alert as she made her way through the streets of the city. While most people knew her as just Mysaria, brothel proprietress, a few knew her as The White Worm because of her network, and now that she knew there was a bounty on her head, she had to be extra cautious. She trusted her people, but not blindly.
A while later, she paused in front of the entrance she usually took to meet Rhaenyra, glancing around to make sure she was alone before she pushed through the panel. The Princess had wanted them to meet in different locations as a way to learn the tunnel system in the Red Keep, but Mysaria had convinced her it was safer to just meet in her room. Less chance of them being discovered.
She put an ear to the door to make sure the Princess was alone and pushed the door open when she was satisfied there would not be any surprises. Entering the room she paused at the sight of Rhaenyra sitting by the windows. The sunlight embraced Rhaenyra like a lover, gently illuminating the Princess so that it almost seemed like she was glowing. Mysaria cursed herself silently for thinking such fanciful thoughts.
“Princess.” She greeted quietly so as not to startle the younger woman.
Rhaenyra glanced up at her greeting, and Mysaria felt herself soften at the pure delight that crossed her face. It shocked her every time the Princess greeted her so enthusiastically. A part of her wanted to shake her and urge her to be more cautious with her affection while another part, perhaps a bigger part, wanted to reveal her own delight at being with the Princess.
“You came. I was beginning to worry.” Rhaenyra said, crossing the room to meet her.
Mysaria felt a blush rise to her cheeks as the Princess wrapped her arms around her. Rhaenyra had been more open with her lately. Hugging her, touching her hands, leaning into her. Mysaria was a master of body language. She understood the signals the Princess was sending, just as she chose to ignore them. The princess was a woman, but young. She was not naïve but she was sheltered. The things Mysaria had seen and done would shock, and maybe even horrify her. If the King had his way she would be wed soon. Their worlds had no business colliding and especially not in the way the Princess seemed to want it to.
“I had some business that couldn’t wait. I apologize.” Mysaria replied, gently pulling away.
“Is everything alright?” Rhaenyra asked in concern.
“For now. We’ve managed to break down another pit.” Mysaria told her as Rhaenyra led her over to the chairs near the window. She saw the Princess had food prepared. Small cakes and fruit were arranged on a platter with a jug of what looked to be wine next to it.
“That’s wonderful. How are the children?” Rhaenyra asked, pushing the food towards her.
“Hurt. Confused. Some were angry and tried to lash out. But all were alive thankfully.” Mysaria replied. And that was something noteworthy. Not all the children made it in the brutal world they were thrown into.
“I tried to bring up the subject to my father.” Rhaenyra informed her, twisting the ring on her finger. It was a nervous habit of hers Mysaria had recognized early on in their acquaintance.
“Why?” Mysaria asked cautiously.
“Because they’re his people. What they’re doing is wrong and he should do something to stop it.” Rhaenyra said. Mysaria almost smiled at the passionate way she said it, as if daring Mysaria to find fault with her reasoning.
“What did he say?” She asked instead.
She watched the Princess deflate a bit. She knew whatever response she’d received was not the one Rhaenyra had expected. The consequence of having too much faith in someone else.
“He said he would have Daemon and the gold cloaks look into it.” Rhaenyra mumbled, looking away.
Mysaria had warned her that would be the outcome. The King didn’t stir himself on behalf of his people. Never had. He had inherited peace from The Old King and seemed to think that was enough. He simply existed to fill the vacancy on the throne.
“How did you even broach the topic? Surely he was curious as to how you knew about such things.” Mysaria asked.
“I told him I overheard some of the guards mention it.” She shrugged.
“Smart.” Mysaria watched Rhaenyra’s eyes light at the praise. “Do not worry Your Highness. We will handle our problems.”
“You shouldn’t have to. It is the duty of the crown to look after its citizens, especially the children. We both know Daemon won’t do anything. And if he’s not bothered then the gold cloaks will hardly be motivated to help.” Rhaenyra’s frustration was obvious.
“Like I said, we will look after ourselves. We’ve been doing it a lot longer than you realize.” Mysaria informed her.
Rhaenyra looked away and focused on something outside the window. Mysaria took a bite of one of the cakes and kept her eyes on the princess. She knew Rhaenyra would not let this go. It’s why she chose to share what information she could with her. She was afraid if she didn’t, the princess would seek answers on her own and that was dangerous.
“What happens to the children when you rescue them? Do they just go back to the streets where they can be preyed upon again?” Rhaenyra looked back to her.
Mysaria hesitated. She’d never told Rhaenyra this. She’d wanted to. She’d wanted to tell Rhaenyra, show her, that she could be a force for good despite all she’d done and will do. She wanted Rhaenyra to look at her with pride. She wanted to bask in the warmth of her praise. And that was why she’d never shared it with her. Those emotions could not take root or be given space to grow. But Rhaenyra was worried and she was disappointed in her inability to help despite the weight of the crown being at her fingertips.
“I have a residence just outside of the better part of the city. It was the first place I acquired when I’d earned enough coin to not be indebted to anyone. Some of the women who came to me for protection were too gentle for the life they thought they had no choice but to turn to when they came to me. I gave it to them. Then I had the children brought to them to be cared for. To be protected.” Mysaria finished softly.
“Mysaria that’s amazing.” Rhaenyra breathed.
And there was the look. The one she’d been desperate to see. The one she’d tried to avoid. To have Rhaenyra’s favor was almost unbearable.
“It was the least I could do.” She shrugged uncomfortably.
“No. You could have looked away. You could have ignored what was happening like so many others have. But you save them and you care for them. That’s….I have no words.” Rhaenyra reached over and took her hand. “I want to see it. To see them.”
She should refuse. Taking Rhaenyra anywhere near the city should be the last thing she does. Especially now, when being with her was even more dangerous than before. But…
“It would have to be in the daylight and I know you have your duties.” Mysaria tried to dissuade her.
“I can get out of my duties if I’m unwell. And suddenly I feel a chill coming on.” Rhaenyra grinned. Mysaria reluctantly smiled back, because of course she wanted to go right away.
When Rhaenyra had informed her protector she was ill and was not to be disturbed, Mysaria waited in the passageway while the princess changed into her peasant’s garb and joined her. She could not stop herself from straightening the wool cap, making sure the silver strands were tucked in before they headed off.
It took them two hours on foot to get to the home tucked away from the bustle of the city. It was a large place made of sturdy bricks surrounded by trees. Mysaria had chosen it for its isolation and quiet. Rhaenyra stared at it with awe, and Mysaria found that odd considering she lived in a castle but didn’t say anything.
She led the princess to the front door before knocking. They waited a beat before the door was flung open and a large man loomed in front of them. Oliver was Clive’s nephew, only twenty and almost as large as his uncle. The menacing glare on his face was enough to have Rhaenyra stepping back, but Mysaria simply reached for her hand and waited.
They both watched as the glare morphed into a wide grin when he got good look at them and Oliver greeted her enthusiastically.
“Mysaria! It’s been ages since I saw you.” He boomed.
“You saw me last week.” She rolled her eyes and accepted his bear hug good naturedly.
“Ages like I said.” He spun her and set her down, before turning to squint at Rhaenyra. “Who’s the runt? Another one for the house?”
Mysaria wanted to laugh at the indignant huff that left Rhaenyra. Compared to Oliver everyone was a “runt”.
“This is Ray. He’s a friend. I wanted to stop by and see how the children were doing and he offered to accompany me.” She replied, walking into the house, pulling Rhaenyra behind her. She trusted these people with almost anything, but Rhaenyra's identity was a secret she would guard closely. The only reason Clive knew was because he'd figured it out on his own when he realized she'd been visiting the Princess.
“I’ll go get Tessa.” Oliver said before rushing off.
“Oliver is something like a guard here. He makes sure no one bothers them.” Mysaria informed Rhaenyra when he was out of sight.
“Makes sense. Just a look at him made me want to run.” Rhaenyra whispered. “Are all your people this scary?”
“Yes. Until you get to know them and you earn their trust.” Mysaria paused before saying, “It’s good to have those kinds of people at your back. People loyal to you and only you.”
When Rhaenyra looked at her in confusion she elaborated. “You stand to inherit a lot. But not everything can be given. Some things are earned. Do not put yourself at the mercy of those whose loyalties shift with the color of a cloak or banner.”
Before Rhaenyra could ask any questions, footsteps heading towards them interrupted the moment. Mysaria watched as an older woman in a soft blue dress approach them. Her blonde hair was pinned back at the nape of her neck and her smile was tired but gentle. Tessa embraced her silently and Mysaria felt herself relax as she always did when the woman embraced her. This was why she’d chosen Tessa to oversee what she was attempting to build here. The woman’s kind, loving nature was what the children needed after what they’d been through.
“Mysaria it’s good to see you.” Tessa said, holding both of her hands.
“You too. How are they?” She knew Tessa would know who she was referring to. They’d broken up a pit the week before and sent twelve children to her. She wanted to know how they, especially the ones who had lashed out, were doing.
“They’re settling. The girls are so sweet. They’re already comfortable and making friends. The boys are taking a bit longer, but it’s nothing we can’t handle. It hasn’t been that long.” The woman assured Mysaria.
“Good.” She murmured, before turning to Rhaenyra. “This is Ray. He’s a friend.” Mysaria introduced, noting Tessa’s cautious look.
At those words the older woman relaxed and led them deeper into the house and to the field at the back. Mysaria was used to all the activity. It never failed to make her feel good seeing the children running around, happy and carefree as they were meant to be. Some sat under trees, reading books or drawing pictures. Others were playing a game where they screamed and chased each other. Mysaria wasn’t sure what it was but they seemed to be having fun.
A few of the older kids saw her and ran over to embrace her. It had taken them a while to realize the woman that had plucked them from the pits had no ill intentions. Now, whenever she visited, they were as happy to see her as she was them.
“Mysaria come look at my drawing!”
“Come see mine!”
“I want to show you my numbers. Miss Tessa says I’m a genius!”
“Did you bring me a present?”
Mysaria laughed as she was bombarded from all sides and she allowed them to drag her to where they had been sitting. She looked back quickly and gestured for Rhaenyra to follow, noting the smile the Princess didn’t try to hide.
“Who’s that?” One of the boys asked when Rhaenyra joined them.
“That’s my friend Ray.” Mysaria answered.
“Is he your protector?” The boy narrowed his eyes at Rhaenyra.
“Something like that.” Mysaria answered.
“He doesn’t look strong. I bet I could protect you better.” He puffed up his chest in an attempt to intimidate Rhaenyra, and Mysaria had to stifle a laugh.
“I protect my lady just fine.” Rhaenyra said, her voice pitched low.
The boy scoffed and turned away, grabbing his sketch and sauntering closer to Mysaria, making sure to keep Rhaenyra behind them. Mysaria didn’t miss the way Rhaenyra rolled her eyes pouted, before her attention was pulled back to the children.
They spent about an hour with the kids, with Rhaenyra finally, reluctantly, being included in some games and conversation, before they took their leave. Noticing it would be dark soon, Mysaria hurried them back through the streets of Flea Bottom and up to the Red Keep. When they got back to Rhaenyra’s room, the princess turned to her and hugged her. This hug was longer and closer than usual it seemed to Mysaria.
When Rhaenyra finally pulled back, she kept her arms around Mysaria and smiled softly at her.
“You’re amazing. I’ve known that for a while, but after today….Mysaria you’re incredible.”
Mysaria looked away from the obvious admiration, not sure how to respond with Rhaenyra’s arms still locked around her and her heart beating wildly in her chest. When she finally answered, she revealed more than she meant to but in a way it felt right.
“I know what it’s like to be abandoned and have no one care enough to help or protect you. There are monsters out there Rhaenyra. I won’t allow them to just do as they please. If it’s in my power to stop them I will do what I have to.” A warning and a promise. If she could spare those children the horror of her own childhood then she would.
Rhaenyra stared at her and Mysaria could tell she understood. Maybe someday she would tell her everything, but for now it was enough that Rhaenyra understood there was a personal element to her crusade.
“I’ll help you. You only have to tell me what you need and it’s yours.” Rhaenyra promised.
The words shocked Mysaria. She thought Rhaenyra would be cautious after hearing her words, but once again the Princess surprised her.
“Thank you Princess.” She said, raising a hesitant hand to cup Rhaenyra’s cheek. She would allow herself that indulgence.
“You called me Rhaenyra before.”
“Forgive my audacity.”
“I like your audacity. Please continue.”
Mysaria let out a quiet laugh and Rhaenyra smiled. She needed to leave before she lost control of the situation. Rhaenyra made her want to surrender all her common sense and that was dangerous for both of them.
“I should…”
“…go?” Rhaenyra finished for her. “I figured.”
Mysaria raised a brow, but instead of pushing for an explanation, she gently extracted herself from Rhaenyra’s arms and headed for the exit.
“One day you’ll stop running.” Rhaenyra said quietly.
Mysaria froze at the words, panic clawing at her chest. She opened her mouth to respond but no words came. What could she say? Rhaenyra was the Princess. Soon she would be the Queen. So, no. Mysaria would never stop running. She couldn’t.