"Oh, it is beautiful," Elenei exclaims, pressing a hand to her cheek. "Do you not agree, Shireen?" she calls to her cousin who is studying the curiosity before their eyes with attention. "Look at those colours." The Kingsguard gives them a slight smile, no doubt amused at their display. Elenei has the fortitude to smile back, but Shireen shies away, hiding the scars on her face behind her veil.
"I think it's lovely," the other girl agrees nonetheless. "Do you think we may touch it?" The question is addresses, however indirectly, to the guard.
The man shakes his head again, this time in refusal. "None may touch it, but those of Royal blood."
"Then fortune must be desirous to do good," an unfamiliar voice breaks the conversation and whatever further question Shireen would have wanted to put forward.
Turning around, on instinct, Shireen meets the lively gaze of Aeron Targaryen, who is for once not in the company of his siblings. A blush steals across her cheeks. The Prince smiles at her, a bold grin that grips her heart tightly. Shireen nearly scurries back in a panic as he draws closer to them. Both she and Elenei curtsey, murmuring a greeting. Of course, it is her cousin, beautiful and bold and everything Shireen can never hope to be, who breaks the ice.
"You would be so kind, Your Grace?" Elenei questions, wide blue eyes staring almost adoringly at the young lad before them. She is not doing it intentionally, Shireen knows, but for the first time it bothers her, because the Prince has already moved his eyes from her to Elenei, and, as if mesmerised, he stares mutely at her.
"But of course," he finally speaks. Aeron steps between the two of them and takes the alleged dragon egg in his hands.
The scales glint and glimmer in the sunlight, ripples of red and black mingling together. These are the colours of House Targaryen, which makes the find even more fitting. Unable to bear remaining in the shadows – just this once, Shireen promises herself – she reaches out, pressing the tip of her finger to the hard shield that protects the tiny dragon that is still trapped in there. The surface is smooth and hard, and Shireen finds herself more curious than she had anticipated. Aeron, who is now looking at her once more, allows the weight of the egg to be passed to her.
"Do you like it?" he asks, something like wonder in his voice. Elenei too is staring over the Prince's shoulder, her gaze questioning. But the Prince has just now noticed a speck of grey of the otherwise alabaster skin. Shireen knows she is caught, the moment his eyes narrow in suspicion.
"I like it very much," she answers, desperately trying to distract him. Elenei senses her discomfort and is already stepping towards her when the Prince gives the silk covering her ruined cheek a light tug. And without even asking. The protest dies on Shireen's lips before she can voice it. The Prince is touching the dead skin and mortification surges through her. "Your Grace, I–"
Bitter tears starts to blur her vision and she can hear Elenei asking for the silk scarf back, but to her surprise, the Prince refuses to comply. "My lady, there is no need to feel anything but at leisure; you are among friends."
Elenei gasps and then catches the Prince by the arm. And whatever spell had started to trickle between the two people making eye contact is now broken. Shireen gives a demure nod before she curls her fingers around the scarf and pulls it back, holding the cloth to chest. "Nonetheless, Your Grace, I feel more at ease like so."
The Prince considers her words before nodding slowly. "It is a pity, though, my lady." Something in his voice makes her hesitate to wrap the dark flesh again. He takes the egg from her hold gently and hands it to Elenei, so she too may inspect it closely.
Strangely bereft, Shireen places the soft material around her neck. It feel like she has been bereted, but she cannot conjure a reason. Most people are disgusted with her ruined face. They either stare at her face to the point where it becomes uncomfortable or they ignore her in favour of someone more pleasant to gaze upon. Usually that someone is Elenei when they are together. And never before has Shireen minded. After all, Elenei is sweet and deserving of being treated with the respect she is clearly afforded.
She remains quietly by Aeron and Elenei who converse animatedly. She is pleased to listen and to nod or give one-worded answers when she must speak. The dragon egg is placed back, so other people who pass by may admire it.
The three of them move away. The Prince insists that they come to the library with him. Elenei worries that they might disturb the persons already there. "I am not overly fond of songs and poems," she confesses. "Shireen likes both though?"
Aeron's eyes snap to hers. "Do you? Then I must insist. I am certain your cousin will find something to amuse herself with for a short while."
Not many are allowed in the private library of the King. Shireen knows this chance is unlikely to come back if she allows it to pass her by. "If I am not bothering, Your Grace."
Frowning at her, Aeron corrects her gently. "You should just call me Aeron." He smiles then adds, "Both of you, I mean."
"Then we must be Elenei and Shireen to you," her cousin returns. So it is agreed between the three of them.
The library is everything Aeron promised it would be. There are few others here. But one cannot ignore the Aeron's brother, Prince Rhaegon who is sitting by the window, listening to Prince Jon.
Jon pauses in his speech and gives the newly gathered company a friendly nod. Rhaegon looks towards them with unseeing eyes and a small smile paints his lips. "Perhaps you would like to make the introductions, brother."
"I should not," Aeron teases. But he does make the introductions and before long they are, all of them, listening to a rousing interpretation of Symeon Star-Eyes' final battle against the creature that slew him and turned him into a walking corpse.
Sitting next to Prince Rhaegon is less taxing on Shireen's nerves, though also less exciting. But, strangely enough, she cannot protest at it. Prince Rhaegon has a calming effect on her. She eyes his profile and marvels at how close in looks he is to his brother.
"This story always brings me grief," Elenei comments at the end. "But Your Grace has a real gift," she tells Prince Jon who laughs good-naturedly at the compliment.
"I have a lot of practice, my lady," he offers, along with an easy grin.