It was the early hours of the evening when the small boy was sent running to the Princess's apartments. He was a young thing, with stringy hair that was pushed back behind his ears and wore a simple tunic. She realized he was a kitchen boy, and she had frowned at his first appearance since she had not ordered anything from the kitchens. Alea had been sitting in her chambers, writing another letter back to Summerhall and new instructions on how matters now that Valarr was even more indisposed. She had ravens coming daily and while she was at Court, she still had matters to deal with back at home. Farmers who held disputes held off for weeks while their rulers were gone, merchants who wanted to set up shops or lords who were waiting for their lords to return so they could pledge loyalty or gain favor. It was so long sense Alea had been home she almost forgot what Summerhall looked like. How did it look now that winter had come and was frosting everything? Even as she dressed warmly in thick velvet and a cloak, there was a hint of a chill that could sneak up in her bones.
But the young boy didn't seem bothered by the cold though as he came in quickly. He seemed a little out of breath, but as he stood straight, Alea stood up in alarm. What could be so important that he couldn't quickly come here - but rather run as fast as his eleven-year-old feet could carry him?
"The Maester Pycell said that His Royal Highness is ready to receive you. Not any other visitors, just you, your Highness."
Alea's heart stopped in her chest and she rose from her chair, her letter to her steward left on her desk as she put her pen away, and she gave the letter to one of her servants to save for later. Alea nodded to the boy as she quickly left the room, purple eyes bright as she moved swiftly down the halls, her ladies trailing after her until she reached her husband's room. She felt her stomach twist at the sight of the guards who had held her off for so long. Now, however, they stepped aside as Princess Alea moved forward and pressed the door open with a careful hand, coming into an oppressively warm room. The fires were burning brightly, the curtains were drawn, and there was the smell of old must, sweat, and blood. A single window had been opened on the opposite side of the room to let in fresh air but not too much, and Alea welcomed the cooling breeze in the stuffy room as she entered. The boy remained outside and Alea saw the old Maester rise from his bow to the Princess. He rose, and his eyes shifted between the bed, that housed her husband and the Princess.
"Please keep the visit short, Your Highness. The prince is still weak, but he is much better then he was when he returned to us." He stated before Alea nodded simply to him and he left the pair alone.
Alea wasted no time in leaving her cloak at the door and coming beside Valarr. Her hands shook a little as she didn't bother sitting in the chair that had been set for her, but rather on the bed beside him. "Oh, Valarr." She whispered as she looked at him and swiftly took a hand, bringing it to her lips to kiss.
"You had me worried so much. They wouldn't let me through the doors to see you. How are you?" She inquired, her eyes wide as she looked at him and pushed some of his hair with shaking fingers away from his face. How long had she waited to be with him? Longer than she wanted. Especially once she confronted both Allara about her bastard and Rhaegar about...everything. She had thought that she might get to see Valarr not long after that, but it was over a month that he was locked away in this room. So much had happened.
"I know I must be careful with you. Forgive me if I am too eager. I have been so worried - deathly worried- about your recovery." She said, her eyes eager to look upon his face and drink him in, to be the wife she was denied being for months.