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Dragonstone – Lady Selyse's Chambers
"Lady Selyse, it's time for your nutrient broth!"
The door swung open almost immediately. Loana, the head maid assigned to her care, stepped inside carrying a silver tray. She was about twenty-five, with the classic Lysene olive skin and sleek black hair, beautiful in a refined way that made it hard to believe she'd once been a bed-slave. Her deep-gray dress and crisp white apron were the standard Dragonstone servant uniform, but the fabric was finer and the cut more flattering—another small luxury Pierce had introduced once his alliance with Stannis took hold. These little upgrades had quietly transformed life inside the castle.
Right behind Loana came Sister Moana.
The midwife was around forty, with a gentle face and clear, steady eyes. She wore the plain gray robes of the Faith, though the wool was the best quality and always spotlessly clean. A delicate seven-pointed star pendant hung at her throat—the silver badge Pierce had commissioned for every member of the Golden Port sept. Each point was etched with a different symbol of the gods, and the design had become wildly popular among septons and septas alike. It wasn't just jewelry; it was a quiet way of spreading Pierce's influence. The Golden Port Faith was growing stronger every day, and people like Sister Moana answered first and foremost to its will.
"How are you feeling today, my lady?" Sister Moana asked warmly. She crossed to the chair and rested a gentle hand on Selyse's swollen belly. "Is the little one moving much?"
Selyse forced a thin smile. "I… I'm all right. Just a little backache."
"That's perfectly normal," Moana said with a reassuring smile. "The baby is full-term now and could come any time. I checked the position yesterday—it's perfect, and your pelvis is nicely shaped. The birth should go smoothly."
"But I lost all my other children!"
Selyse had once hated her body for failing to give Stannis an heir. Now that she carried this child—the one she had never wanted—everything had gone perfectly. Sometimes she even wondered if the Mother herself was mocking her. After Shireen, she and Stannis had tried for years. Three stillborn boys. Maester Cressen had told her they were all male, and that was why the grief had cut so deep.
The one she'd desperately wanted had died. The one she'd never asked for was thriving. The irony tasted like ash.
"Your previous losses were due to poor nutrition," Moana explained patiently, still stroking the belly. The baby kicked in answer. "Lord Pierce's books describe it clearly—if a mother doesn't get enough fresh vegetables, fruit, and meat, the risk of miscarriage is very high."
"I saw it myself on the Quiet Isle," she went on. "A couple followed my advice and traded fish for milk and eggs. Their third child lived."
Selyse had hoped to stall by chatting, but Loana saw straight through her. The maid set the tray on the side table and lifted the steaming bowl.
"Lady Selyse, this is the special broth Maester Cressen prepared. It's good for both you and the baby."
The recipe had come straight from Pierce. He'd poured modern knowledge into books like On Human Nutrition, helping scholars like Feron earn their doctorates in Braavos. Loana, who knew exactly what Pierce was planning, had been extra careful with this particular patient.
Selyse stared at the bowl and felt her stomach twist—not from the smell, but from the suffocating sense of being watched every second of every day. She glanced at Loana. Those calm eyes always seemed to see too much.
She had caught the woman sitting in the corner chair more than once, watching her in the dead of night.
"Why aren't you sleeping?" Selyse had demanded.
Loana had only smiled. "You could go into labor at any moment, my lady. I must be ready."
Selyse took the bowl with trembling hands. As she sipped, she caught the quick glance exchanged between Loana and Sister Moana—understanding, pity, and something deeper she couldn't name.
"Sister Moana," Selyse said after swallowing the last spoonful, trying to sound casual, "you've delivered so many babies… have you ever seen one that didn't look like its parents?"
Moana paused, then smiled even more gently. "Of course, my lady. The gods decide a child's face. Sometimes they favor the parents, sometimes the grandparents, sometimes an ancestor from generations back. I once delivered a Riverlands lord's son who came out with bright red hair—while both parents were blond!"
Selyse's heart leaped with sudden hope. "What happened? The lord must have been furious!"
"Oh yes, it caused quite the scandal," Moana said. "But once I brought in a maester, we traced it to the boy's great-grandmother from House Tully. The red hair had simply skipped a few generations."
The answer should have comforted her. Instead, the flicker of pity in Moana's eyes made Selyse's stomach drop like a stone.
"Try to rest, my lady," Loana said softly while clearing the bowl. "Lord Stannis is very excited about this child. Everyone's noticed how much lighter his mood has been lately—even Maester Cressen commented on it."
The words cut like a knife. Stannis was waiting… for a child who wasn't his.
"Lord Pierce arrived at Dragonstone today," Loana added almost offhandedly. "He brought Princess Arianne Martell and several of Prince Oberyn's foster-daughters. The castle is quite lively."
Selyse's fingers clenched. "Dornish people? Here?"
"Only a short visit, my lady," Moana soothed. "The princess is on her way to King's Landing. Lord Stannis… well, he's never been fond of Dornish customs, but protocol must be observed."
A wave of dizziness hit Selyse. Dornish women—sharp-eyed, sharp-tongued, famous for noticing everything. If they saw the baby…
"You look pale, my lady!" Loana stepped closer, concerned. "Would you like to lie down?"
"No… no, I'm fine," Selyse managed. "It's just stuffy in here. Could we open the window?"
Loana crossed to the heavy glass pane—another of Pierce's Dragonstone products, crystal-clear and perfectly made—and pushed it open. Cool sea air rushed in, carrying the clean salt smell.
"Lord Pierce really is remarkable," Moana said, settling onto the edge of the bed with genuine admiration. "His midwife training program has saved so many mothers and babies. Difficult births in Golden Port have dropped by more than half."
Loana nodded. "The man seems to know everything—medicine, building, trade, sailing… Some say the Seven themselves blessed him with all that knowledge."
"He's too modest about it," Moana added with a smile. "Always claims he learned it from Essosi texts or Citadel scholars. But we all know… some wisdom can't be gained through study alone."
Their praise only made Selyse's dread grow. Pierce Celtigar—that impossibly young, impossibly powerful lord, Shireen's betrothed. He had already changed Dragonstone beyond recognition. If he ever learned the truth…
He had brought so much to them. He had lifted them out of poverty. And if he discovered what she had done, would he take it all away?
"Lady Selyse?" Loana's voice pulled her back. "You're drifting again. Too much worry isn't good for the baby."
Selyse looked at the two women and suddenly felt a flash of pure rage. Who did they think they were, watching her with those pitying eyes? What right did they have to control her life?
"Get out!" she snapped, voice icy. "I want to be alone."
Loana and Moana exchanged a glance.
"My lady, your condition makes solitude unwise," Loana said calmly. "Lord Stannis gave strict orders that someone must remain with you at all times."
"I said get out!" Selyse's voice rose. She flung out her arm and accidentally knocked a porcelain vase off the side table. It shattered on the stone floor with a sharp crack.
The room went dead silent for a heartbeat.
Loana knelt and began picking up the pieces, unhurried, never even glancing up.
Moana sighed. "My lady, your emotions are running high again. This isn't good for the birth. Perhaps another dose of the calming draught—"
"I won't drink it!" Selyse screamed. "You're all spying on me! Controlling me! I'm not a prisoner!"
"You are certainly not a prisoner, my lady," Loana said, rising with the shards in her hands. Her expression remained perfectly serene. "You are a mother about to give birth, and our duty is to keep you and the child safe. The last time your nerves got the better of you, Maester Cressen had to sedate you. Do you really wish to go through that again?"
Selyse remembered the three terrifying days she had been gently but firmly tied to the bed. She trembled. She looked into Loana's steady brown eyes and understood the unspoken warning: obey, or be made to obey.
Tears spilled over. Selyse collapsed back into the chair and covered her face with both hands. "I'm just… so afraid…"
Moana stepped forward and wrapped her in a gentle embrace. "Every mother is afraid, my lady. But you are not alone. The Mother will watch over you, and so will we."
Loana moved closer too, her voice softening. "Birth is a sacred thing. Sister Moana is the best there is. She'll make sure everything goes perfectly. All you need to do is relax and trust us."
Selyse shook in Moana's arms, terror still clawing at her chest. She knew fighting was useless. These women were Stannis's eyes and hands, and Stannis would allow no "accidents."
Then a sudden, savage pain ripped through her belly.
Selyse gasped sharply, hands flying to her stomach.
"My lady?" Moana's tone sharpened instantly.
"It hurts…" Selyse panted. "My belly… it hurts so much…"
Moana and Loana traded a lightning-fast look.
"How often?" Moana asked, already helping Selyse to the bed.
"It… it just started…" Selyse gritted out. "But it's strong…"
Moana checked quickly, her face turning serious. "It's time. Loana, fetch Maester Cressen and Lord Stannis. Tell the kitchens to boil water, bring clean linen and scissors. And get the bottle of disinfectant spirits from my chest—Lord Pierce insisted every tool be sterilized with alcohol."
Loana nodded and hurried out.
Selyse clutched Moana's hand, eyes wide with terror. "Is… is it happening now? The baby is coming?"
"Yes, my lady," Moana said, gentle but firm. "The child has chosen today. Breathe deeply… that's it. I'll be right here the whole time. You and the baby are going to be fine."
But Selyse couldn't relax. The baby was coming. The dark-skinned baby. The one that would expose every secret she had. And there was nothing she could do to stop it.
(Great Stranger, I pray to you… take me now. Please… let me die before I have to face what comes next!)
Selyse's silent, desperate prayer echoed in her mind as another contraction tore through her. She really wished, in that moment, that death would simply claim her and spare her the horror about to unfold.