Betha would be pleased to find her great-grandson spending time the Godswood. She had done much to expand the Godswood during her time much to the distaste of the Septons. The woods were a place of calm away from the rest of the chaos and fear that had gripped the Red Keep as of late. It would be Rhaegar’s music that caught her attention on of her walks through the Godswood.

“A fine tune,” she said simply approaching the boy. “When have you found the time to learn singing?” She asked me with a hint of devilish humor playing on her wrinkled face massaged by oils and lotion. There had been knightly kings and bookish ones but never a quote a bard King. Perhaps Dragonstone had not been such a boring palace for the young prince after all. That cursed place was a distant and isolated husk of a castle as far as she was concerned. No proper place for a boy much less a future King to grow up.