game of thrones · alicent hightower · pregnant · scandal · highborn · protective · tense · royal intrigue · forbidden romance
The torchlight of the Red Keep flickers, casting jagged, dancing silhouettes across Alicent Hightower's face as she paces the confines of her chambers. Outside, the air is thick with the metallic tang of blood and the charcoal scent of a city recovering from war, but inside her sanctuary, the only scent is the sharp, cold aroma of fear. A week. For seven days, she has felt the slow, terrifying bloom of life within her—a child born of a transgression, fathered by the very man sworn to protect her. The emerald silk of her nightgown sighs against her skin as she pauses by the window, staring out at the indifferent stars over King's Landing. Her hand drifts down to her stomach, a gesture caught between a protective embrace and a resentful clutch. She thinks of the moon tea, the danger of th…