Joana read on, forcing herself to slow down when her eyes tried to skim too quickly. It took her hours—long, grueling hours—just to make it through a single page.
But with every sentence she managed to decode, every term she forced herself to understand, she could feel something changing within her. The words were still foreign, yes, but less so now. They were beginning to make sense, and with each page turned, she grew a little more confident in her ability to follow them.
By the time the light outside had shifted and deepened into the soft glow of evening, she had read only a few more pages—but it felt like a triumph. The book hadn't become easier, but she had become stronger.
It was during this quiet victory that a maid approached, stepping gently into the room and dipping her head in a formal bow.
"My lady," the maid said softly, "the Emperor wishes to see you."
Joana blinked, momentarily pulled from the dense world of Archmaester Hobert's words. For a moment, she simply stared at the girl, the message sinking in slowly. Then she closed the book carefully, pressing her fingers to the cover as her thoughts scrambled into order.
She got to her feet with quiet grace, her first thought going not to herself, but to Jaehaerys. He was still awake, having risen from his nap earlier and spent the last part of the day in playful delight. He had laughed, crawled across the cushions, and babbled his nonsense words to the little dragon toy that never left his side. But now he was tired again, his energy spent from so much movement and joy.
Joana carried him to the nursery, her arms wrapped around his small frame with gentle protectiveness.
There was a tug of reluctance in her chest as she laid him down—an uneasiness that made her hesitate, her hand lingering against the soft blanket covering him. She didn't like leaving him here, not completely out of reach. But at the same time, she didn't want him anywhere near the Emperor's chamber. Whatever conversation was to happen, it was not one Jaehaerys should hear.
But it wasn't as if he could understand such conversation. But as a mother, she didn't want her son to hear anything wrong, even if he couldn't understand.
He had already drifted into a light sleep, his breathing slow and even. The day's play had tired him out thoroughly, and now, with the soft hush of the nursery wrapping around him, he looked utterly at peace. His lips moved slightly in his sleep as if mouthing some dream only he could understand. Joana watched him for a moment longer, her fingers brushing a stray curl from his forehead.
Then, with a quiet sigh, she straightened up and left the room, ready to face the Emperor.
When Aegon arrives, she is dressed in nothing more than her embroidered nightgown. The fabric is simple but clearly well-crafted, the stitches neat and delicate, speaking of quiet luxury rather than excess.
The gown hugs her gently, flowing around her in soft folds. Her dark brown hair tumbles freely down her back in loose waves, catching the faint glow of candlelight. Aegon pauses at the doorway, taking her in with a slow smile before stepping fully into her room, his hands clasped casually behind him.
He, in contrast, is impeccably dressed. His black doublet, embroidered with deep red thread in elegant, swirling patterns, fits him perfectly, emphasizing the strong lines of his shoulders and chest. His dark trousers complete the look, sharp and refined.
A lock of his hair falls over his eyes as he walks, and he doesn't bother brushing it away—he's smirking, eyes glinting with that familiar spark.
"Hello," he says, his voice soft but steady. As he steps further into the room, his gaze flicks around with a trace of concern that doesn't go unnoticed. "Where is the baby? Is he with your maids again?"
"No," she replies, her voice calm and clear. "He is in his nursery."
He nods thoughtfully at that. Joana watched as he moved across the room as if searching for something; he was heading straight to the hidden door in her wall. He doesn't hesitate—he already knows exactly where it is. With a smooth motion, Aegon opens the door and leans inside, his eyes scanning the small space until they find their son. He stands there for a brief moment, just watching as if reassuring himself that everything is exactly as it should be.
Satisfied, he turns back to her, gently closing the hidden door behind him. His face is calm, his features softened by the quiet joy of seeing his child safe and sound.
The flickering light casts a warm glow over his skin, and there's something about him in that moment—something tender, something completely at peace. Joana smiles as he walks over to her, his hands sliding slowly over her waist, gliding around to the small of her back. He pulls her close, and the heat of his body wraps around her like a protective cocoon. She leans into him, closing her eyes for a second, savoring the feeling, then lifts her head to kiss him.
"I can't stay long tonight," he whispers, their faces so close their breaths mixed in the air between them. His lips barely brush hers as he speaks, the words warm against her skin. "Just an hour. Perhaps two."
But she doesn't let him say another word. She closes the remaining space between them and kisses him deeply, her lips parting as she slides her tongue gently over his. He groans, the sound low and rough in his throat, and without a second's pause, his arms sweep down to lift her off her feet. He holds her tightly, almost possessively, and she giggles in surprise; she feels herself pressed onto him, and her breasts become almost flat.
She didn't mind anything...this was the man she loved, she smiled as her arms wrapped around his neck.
Still holding her, he carries her to the bed, his steps sure and steady, never once breaking their embrace.