She was grateful when Kaelyn declined the invitation and smiled. For once it was real. "It is not an intrusion, my lady. You are keeping me only from solitude and that is not such an ill thing." She sighed and her eyes darted to the door of the bedroom. The blood and other matter was gone but she found herself avoiding it nonetheless. "I thank you for your offer, your grace, but there is nothing to be done, save finding the fiends who have so cruelly disturbed all our lives."
Elia's eyes burned with tears still unshed for Aenyris. It should be Jaehaerys to decide this, Jaehaerys to hold the funeral and the procession. Aenyris should have been queen and this would have been a queen's burial, yet it was nothing.
"Not all Targaryens are buried," Elia said, turning her head away from Kaelyn. "A pyre for the last of the dragons and her ashes... Her mother's rest in the vault and her sisters'... but Aeny might prefer-- have preferred the freedom of the winds. I-I don't know." She had never dealt with funerals. Her parents' had happened when she was too young to understand and Aeria's had been an affair of state. She looked at Kaelyn uncertainly, proud enough not to want to show she was lost but practical enough to know that she hadn't a clue.
"Aeny dreamed and spun her tales and no one will ever hear them now. Perhaps-perhaps the wind would listen better than we did..."