I barely slept through the night, haunted by memories of Aemond's confession—the raw torment in his eye, the bitter regret that weighed upon his heart. By dawn, I felt hollow, yet determined to find a moment of respite. Life within the Red Keep never halted, even as war loomed at our gates. Servants bustled with trays of bread and fruit, guards changed shifts with grim faces, and courtiers whispered rumors in the corridors.

Today, Queen Helaena had invited me to her chambers for a quiet morning together with our children. The invitation felt like a lifeline, offering a brief escape from the unrelenting tension that pervaded every hall.

Helaena's apartments were draped in soft light, the early sun peeking through embroidered curtains. A pair of Targaryen tapestries hung on the walls, and the faint smell of lavender lingered in the air. I found Helaena seated on a cushioned bench near the window, her expression distant yet gentle.

She turned at my arrival, a welcoming smile touching her lips. "Lyanna," she said, standing to greet me. "Come, sit. The children are already at play."

I bowed my head lightly in respect. "Thank you, Your Grace." Her new title still felt strange on my tongue, but Helaena bore it with quiet grace.

My three little ones—Maekar, Rhaella, and Laena—were gathered near Helaena's own children. Their small voices rose and fell in gleeful chatter. Maekar proudly displayed a wooden sword, while Rhaella dangled a crudely sewn doll, and Laena watched them both with shining curiosity, occasionally chipping in with her own imaginative stories. Helaena's twins giggled as Maekar enacted some grand dragon battle, the children all enthralled by the pretend spectacle.

"They seem so happy," Helaena remarked softly, gesturing for me to sit beside her. "It's comforting, in these trying times, to see their innocence remain intact."

I nodded, feeling a knot loosen in my chest at the sight of their playful scuffle. "A rare blessing, indeed," I whispered. "I only pray it lasts."

A moment of companionable silence followed as we watched the children navigate their invented world of knights and dragons. My heart twinged—knowing what awaited them if our realm truly collapsed into war. But for now, they were free.

Helaena observed me quietly, her calm gaze taking in the exhaustion I knew lingered beneath my eyes. "I hope you're all right," she said, her voice low and sincere. "Last night was... difficult for many of us."

I forced a small smile, memories of the previous evening's tumult rising unbidden. "I'm trying to manage," I replied, keeping my voice steady. "Aemond's actions weigh heavily on me, but I can't... I can't lose myself in grief. My children need me whole."

A flicker of sympathy crossed Helaena's face. "You love him," she stated softly, not as a question but an acknowledgment. "Despite what happened, that love remains."

I swallowed, nodding. "He is my husband, and we share a life... a family. Yet it doesn't erase the pain his deed has caused—both to me and the realm."

Helaena reached out and gently placed her hand on mine. "I understand. Aemond bears a burden only he can carry, but you share in its weight as his wife." She paused, and her eyes flickered with a distant, almost prophetic sadness. "This war spares no one, Lyanna. Not even the innocent."

I turned my attention back to the children. Rhaella and Laena squealed in delight as Maekar declared them princesses in his grand kingdom, raising his wooden sword with dramatic flair. In that moment, it was as though the outside world did not exist—only the bright tapestry of childhood games.

"I wish they could keep playing like this forever," I murmured, my throat tightening. "That they never have to learn the horrors we've endured."

Helaena's lips curved in a sad smile. "We all wish that," she said, her voice thick with unshed tears. "And maybe, for a little while, we can give them this haven of peace."

Just then, Laena glanced up, noticing me. Her eyes gleamed, and she held out a wooden horse in one hand. "Mama, see? Maekar says I can ride this into battle!"

I laughed despite myself, beckoning her closer. "Oh, does he now? We'll have to see if your father agrees about letting you lead charges."

Laena giggled, climbing into my lap to show off her toy. Rhaella soon followed, tugging at my skirt to gain my attention, while Maekar made a show of bowing like a knight to Helaena's twins.

For those few minutes, the tension in my chest eased. Helaena offered me a gentle smile, and we helped the children navigate their small pretend world—where battles were fought with wooden swords and ended in giggles, not blood. It was a realm far kinder than the one awaiting them outside these plush chambers.

A soft knock sounded on the doorframe, breaking our reverie. One of Helaena's maids appeared, head bowed. "Forgive me, Your Grace. The Dowager Queen and the Hand have requested Princess Lyanna's presence in the council room."

Helaena's hand drifted away from mine, and I felt the chill of reality reasserting itself. "Will you return after?" she asked, her eyes betraying her own fear at the thought of what council might decide next.

I gave her a faint nod, hugging my daughters briefly as they pouted at my impending departure. Maekar, with all the solemnity of his six years, took my hand. "Mama, are you okay?"

I ruffled his hair, forcing a reassuring smile. "I'm fine, my sweet boy. Play with your sisters. I'll be back soon."

At Helaena's gentle urging, they returned to their game, albeit more subdued. As I rose, my gaze lingered on their small forms: oblivious to the war cries echoing through the realm, safe in their private battles of make-believe.

Helaena touched my arm once more. "Remember, you're not alone, Lyanna," she said softly. "I may be queen, but I'm also your family."

My eyes stung with gratitude. "Thank you," I whispered, before stepping away.

As I left Helaena's chambers, the warmth of the children's laughter faded, replaced by the cold weight of duty. My footsteps echoed against the stone walls, leading me toward a council that would discuss strategies and alliances—and the aftermath of Luke's death.

Yet for a brief, precious moment that morning, in the hush of Helaena's chambers, I had witnessed a fragile oasis of happiness—a testament to what we fought to protect, even as we inexorably marched into the jaws of war.