The Queen of Dreams
Celeste’s run-ins with the infamous Targaryen family didn’t stop with Aemond, much to her dismay.
Her days in the Red Keep had settled into a monotonous rhythm of pan scrubbing, potato peeling and sheet cleaning.
Each task was accompanied by the dull ache of exhaustion and the persistent resentment started bubbling beneath her skin.
After another week of relentless work, she was ready to march into the throne room and demand Sirius’s attention. Her frustration only deepened when she came across one particularly vile stain on a sheet, likely from the eldest son’s chambers. The sight was nearly enough to drive her over the edge, but Lyra, as if sensing her brewing fury, handed her a new task that took precedent.
Celeste found herself on the top floor of the Red Keep, the afternoon sun streaming through the narrow windows as she made her way towards her destination, careful to keep an eye out for the Prince she still held a resentment towards. She balanced a silver tray in her hands, the delicate porcelain tea set atop it clinking faintly with each step.
Lyra had been firm in her instructions. Deliver the tea to Princess Helaena’s chambers and say as little as possible.
“She’s kind. Not all there, perhaps,” Lyra had said, her tone softening for the first time since Celeste had met her, “but she’s not one to trouble with nonsense. Do as you're told and leave her be.”
Grateful for a reprieve from the stifling heat of the kitchens, Celeste found herself navigating the winding corridors of the Red Keep, the silver tray in her hands trembling slightly with each step. Afternoon sunlight streamed through narrow windows, illuminating the worn stone floors and painting golden patterns on the walls. As she climbed to the upper levels, she took deep, steadying breaths, appreciating the rare moment of freedom.
Her borrowed servant's dress felt ill-fitted and stifling, but she adjusted it as best she could, tucking a stray strand of dark hair behind her ear. Approaching the heavy wooden door of the princess’s chambers, she rapped lightly. A soft, melodic voice answered from within. “Come in.”
Celeste pushed the heavy door open with her shoulder, wincing as the tray tipped slightly and teacups clanged together.
The sunlight here was warmer in this room, casting an almost ethereal glow over the space. Tapestries adorned the walls, depicting dragons soaring through fiery skies. Near the window, a young woman sat on an ornately carved bench, threading beads onto a piece of embroidery with meticulous care.
Helaena Targaryen was exactly as the rumors had described—delicate and dreamlike. Her pale blonde hair spilled over her shoulders in soft waves, and her blue eyes held a faraway look, as if seeing something beyond the room. She didn’t glance up as Celeste entered.
“You can set it on the table.” Helaena said without looking up, her voice lilting and melodic. Celeste approached the small table beside her, setting down the tray with care. The porcelain teacups clinked softly as she straightened, her eyes drawn to the princess’s embroidery. It was a dragon, its wings outstretched, its scales glinting with beads of sapphire and emerald. Celeste briefly wondered if this was what the princess’s dragon looked like. The craftsmanship was astonishing, and for a moment, Celeste forgot her place.
“Beautiful.” Celeste murmured, the word slipping out before she could stop herself.
Helaena paused, her needle hovering over the fabric, poised to stab through the embroidery hoop, before she turned to look at Celeste for the first time. Her blue eyes met Celeste’s silver ones, and a soft smile curved her lips, her face lighting up. “Thank you,” she said, her tone genuine. “Do you embroider?”
Celeste shook her head quickly, eyes wide. “No, my lady. My hands aren’t quite delicate enough for it. And admittedly, I’ve never had the patience for it either.” She chuckled.
Helaena tilted her head, studying her. “That’s a shame. It’s a calming thing, to create something with your hands. The world is noisy enough without us adding to it.”
Celeste wasn’t sure how to respond, her dealings with royalty limited to the run in with Aemond. Instead, she gave a small nod, her eyes flicking back to the embroidery. “The colours you’ve chosen. They’re striking. Do they mean something?” She asked.
“Dragons should be striking.” Helaena said, her voice carrying a wistful note. “They are creatures of fire and fury, but they carry such grace. The sapphires reminded me of my own dragon.” She lowered her gaze back to the fabric, her hands resuming their careful work. “Are you new to the Keep?”
“Yes, my lady.” Celeste said, clasping her hands in front of her to keep from fidgeting. “I… I work in the kitchens.” Celeste was careful to keep the disgust out of her voice.
“Helaena’s smile widened. “You don’t seem like a kitchen maid.”
Celeste’s breath caught in her throat. Merlin, she thought. Had she been too forward? Had she given herself away? “I-” she started, but Helaena waved a hand.
“It’s not a bad thing,” The princess interjected, her tone reassuring. “You just… feel different. Like someone who carries secrets.” Her gaze turned distant again, as if her words had taken her somewhere far away. “Secrets weigh heavily, don’t they?”
Celeste looked down, her shoulders sagging and her throat tightening. “Yes, my lady.” She sighed softly, unsure why she felt compelled to agree “Indeed they do.”
For a moment, the room was silent, save for the faint clinking of beads against the needle as Celeste waited to be granted leave. Then Helaena spoke again, her voice quieter this time. “I’ve seen you before.”
Celeste froze. “I don’t think that’s possible, my lady. I’m new here and have mostly been kept to the kitchens.”
Helaena didn’t look up. “Not here. Not in this place. But… elsewhere. In dreams.” She set her embroidery down and clasped her hands in her lap, her expression serene but unreadable. “You stand in the shadows, but there is light behind you. And something… something follows you, doesn’t it? Something unseen.”
A shiver ran down Celeste’s spine, and she subconsciously tugged at her left sleeve. “I don’t understand, my lady.”
Helaena turned to her, her eyes clear and piercing. “You will.” She said cryptically.
The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning Celeste couldn’t grasp. She wanted to ask more, however her voice died in her throat as a knock at the door startled Celeste. Another maid entered, her head bowed, and murmured something about the Queen requesting Helaena’s presence.
The princess sighed, gathered her embroidery and rose gracefully to her feet.
“Thank you for bringing the tea,” Helaena said, her kind smile returning. “I hope we’ll speak again.”
Celeste nodded and curtsied, her mind still reeling. “Of course, my lady.”
As she left the princess’s chambers, tray in hand, Celeste’s thoughts raced, her mind replaying Helaena’s words. They had unsettled her, striking a chord she couldn’t ignore. How could the princess have seen her before? And what had she meant about shadows and light? The encounter had left her with questions she didn’t have answers for, but one thing was certain - Helaena Targaryen was unlike anyone she had ever met.
By the time Celeste returned to the kitchens, the clamour of pots and pans felt like an intrusion into the strange calm she had felt in the princess’s presence.
Lyra raised an eyebrow as she entered, taking in the thoughtful expression which adorned Celeste’s face. “Went well, then? You’ve been gone for a while.” She spoke, her hands kneading the dough in front of her.
Celeste nodded, returning the tray to where it came from. “She’s… kind.” She said simply, not willing to divulge any further information.
Lyra chuckled. “Aye, that she is. Though kind doesn’t mean harmless. Best you get that in your head if you’re gonna survive this place.”
Celeste didn’t reply, her mind still fixed on the princess’s cryptic words. Secrets weigh heavily, don’t they?
Celeste found herself grateful for the repetitive task of scrubbing the pans. She realised that, for the first time since her arrival, she felt a spark of hope. She didn’t know how or why, but something told her that Helaena would play a larger part in her journey. And perhaps, in time, the princess may even help her find the answers she sought.