Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own A Song of Ice and Fire, Game of Thrones, House of the Dragon, nor any of George RR Martin's works

Rated M for strong language, violence, adult content, adult situations, incest (sorry, it's Targaryens), and some sexual content

Enjoy

Harrenhal, 101 AC...

Prince Daemon stood to the left of the platform where the old and feeble King Jaehaerys sat. Harren Hoare's old throne had been outfitted with Targaryen banners and dragon carved gold. To the king's left, Princess Rhaenys stood with her husband, Lord Corlys Velaryon. To his right, Prince Viserys stood with his pregnant wife, Lady Aemma Arryn. The only two true contenders for the throne. Daemon stood at the head of his brother's staunchest supporters, ready to defend the claim of Prince Baelon's eldest son. Two handmaids stood to his left, holding the futures of House Targaryen: Princess Rhaenyra, a delightful girl and Prince Viserys' only child, and Princess Alyssa, Daemon's own daughter. Alyssa wiggled in the handmaid's arms, eager to be free of the woman. Daemon sighed and took his daughter. "Lykirī aōla. This is a big moment, my dear."

Alyssa gazed up at her father, one eye brown and the other purple. Her hair was a mess of curls, mostly brown save for the streaks of silver along her hairline. Daemon kissed his daughter's forehead and smiled against her soft skin. She smelled of dragon. Of her dragon. Despite the few features Alyssa inherited from her mother, in Daemon's eyes, Alyssa was solely his. He turned his attention to the end of the great hall. Two maesters carried the chest that held every vote put forth for the two contenders. "Who are they, kepa?" Alyssa asked.

"Hush now."

The maesters set the chest down before King Jaehaerys, bowing their heads before opening it for him. The old king leaned down, grabbing the scroll at the top that held the final decision. He cleared his throat as he unrolled the stiff paper. "It is declared by all lords paramount and lords vassal of the Seven Kingdoms...that Prince Viserys Targaryen, eldest son of Prince Baelon Targaryen and Princess Alyssa Targaryen, be made Prince of Dragonstone and heir to the Iron Throne."

Daemon was the first to cheer. He shifted Alyssa in his arms so that he could clap loudly and proudly for his brother. The entire audience joined him, rejoicing in the decision. An heir has been chosen. King Jaehaerys breathed a sigh of relief as the applause continued. Daemon surveyed the crowd. No one would dare challenge his brother. His eyes landed on a familiar face beneath a bronze-colored banner. A young woman stood in plain leathers and little jewelry. His smile disappeared. His wife, Lady Rhea Royce, glared at him. Her beady eyes were fixed in a state of pure hatred. Daemon held Alyssa closer, protectively. He looked at his brother and then at Aemma with her round belly. He hoped to have a nephew soon. Even if it displaced himself as Viserys' heir, his brother's son could marry Alyssa. The plan was unfolding in Daemon's mind. And House Targaryen would continue to rule for centuries to come...

King's Landing, 11 years later...

Princess Rhaenyra closed her eyes, relishing in the mist on her cheeks. A soft rumble reverberated throughout Syrax and into Rhaenyra's body. The yellow she-dragon understood her rider's mind and the rider understood the dragon's. Syrax flapped her wings and soared even higher over Blackwater Bay. The sun shined unencumbered by clouds. Yet a shadow passed over Rhaenyra and her young dragon. She opened her eyes and glanced up. An orange dragon high above stretched its wings, nearly large enough to eclipse the sun. Starfyre suddenly dove down, her rider squealing in delight. Rhaenyra watched her cousin steer her dragon this way and that. Moving through the sky as if she had been born on dragonback. Rhaenyra patted Syrax's shoulder. "Sōvēs, Syrax!"

Syrax purred and surged toward the other dragon. Rhaenyra whistled, catching Alyssa's attention. Her cousin's wild hair whipped around her shoulders. Alyssa pulled on her dragon's reins and together, they danced. Syrax and Starfyre rolled along the edges of King's Landing in an ancient rhythm known only to dragons. They broke away to fly around the Red Keep. Their paths twisted and converged as they sailed over the city. The Dragonpit loomed ahead atop Rhaenys' Hill in all its glory. The dragons circled the pit twice before settling down at the western entrance. The Targaryen girls slid off their dragons with big smiles on their faces. Alyssa roughly brushed her curls from her face, her braid having come undone. She walked around to Starfyre's face. The dragon's brilliant green eyes gleamed with excitement. Alyssa hugged Starfyre who purred in delight.

"Welcome back, Princesses," Ser Harrold said. He stood near the carriage to keep his horse calm. "I trust your rides were pleasant."

"Try not to look too relieved, Ser," Rhaenyra said.

The dragonkeepers directed Syrax into the pit. The yellow dragon obeyed without question, throwing Rhaenyra one final glance before disappearing into the dark stables. Two dragonkeepers approached Starfyre who growled at them. "Dohaerās, Qēlperzomy," the dragonkeeper commanded. "Dohaerās."

Alyssa rubbed Starfyre's snout. The maesters likened the bond between a dragon and its rider to one of telepathy, but Alyssa knew better. It was synchrony. Their feelings were one. She stepped away from Starfyre and the orange dragon calmed herself, following the dragonkeepers' orders. Rhaenyra had already reached the carriage where Lady Alicent Hightower waited for them. Alyssa ran over, kicking up dust as she did. "Your dragons have grown quickly," Alicent noted. "Almost as big as Caraxes."

"Yes," Rhaenyra said. "Almost big enough to saddle two."

Alicent smiled nervously. "I believe I'm quite content as a spectator, thank you."

"I believe after your first ride, you will be begging us to take you," Alyssa said, climbing into the carriage.

Alicent only smiled, turning her eyes downward. Rhaenyra removed her gloves and touched her friend's arm. A silent conversation passed between them and Alicent relaxed her shoulders. They followed Alyssa into the carriage for the ride back to the Red Keep. Rhaenyra plopped down, heaving a heavy sigh. Alicent looked over at Alyssa as the princess set about removing her gloves and loosening her collar. "Would you like me to fix your hair?"

"If you don't mind." Alyssa slid to the floor and moved to sit with her back against Alicent's legs. "You have a gentler touch than my handmaiden. I swear to the gods that my mother sent Rosey just to torment me."

"I'm sure that isn't true." Alicent combed her fingers through Alyssa's soft curls, easing the tangles apart. "Your handmaiden simply does not know how to handle curls. They're very delicate, you see. Untameable, even."

"Both of you are lucky," Rhaenyra said. "I love your curls."

Alicent smiled sweetly at her dear friend. A special smile they loved to pass between one another. A special smile that Alyssa always took note of. The ride back to the castle was relatively quick considering the typical congestion of the streets of King's Landing and despite the early hour, the castle was bustling. As the girls exited the carriage, Ser Harrold placed his hand upon Alyssa's shoulder. "Your father has returned," he whispered.

Alyssa's eyes darted to Rhaenyra and Alicent who hadn't yet noticed she wasn't with them. She thanked Ser Harrold and ran to catch up with the girls. Rhaenyra looped one arm around Alicent's and the other around Alyssa's. Servants and handmaids and knights all stopped to bow in respect to the noble girls as they passed. But the trio spared them not a second thought. The girls made their way to the royal apartments in Maegor's Holdfast. Alyssa departed her friends as her chambers were at the opposite end of the hall from Rhaenyra's. She paused momentarily before entering her room, seeing Rhaenyra and Alicent holding hands and laughing as they walked. Alyssa smiled to herself, but it faltered upon seeing someone standing in the shadows of her apartment. "Kepa?"

Prince Daemon stepped into the light. "Tala."

"Does the king know you're here?"

He shook his head. "Perhaps. Where were you?"

Alyssa closed the door then gestured to her clothes. "Flying with Rhaenyra. But now we must visit her grace, the queen. Would you like to join us?"

Daemon said nothing. He walked over to the table where Alyssa was taking off her coat. He set a decorative hairpin down next to her gloves. It was smooth, shiny black steel with a dragon and a serpent curled around each other. The dragon had ruby eyes while the snake had yellow diamonds. Alyssa picked up the hairpin, noting its sharp point and light weight. "Valyrian steel."

"A relic of the Simaryon Family."

"Simaryon? I do not recognize that name."

"A name that perished in Doom." Daemon brushed Alyssa's hair from her face, noting how her cheeks were slightly windburnt. "According to legend, they founded the colonies in Sothoros and were in charge of the experiments conducted there." He watched her study the hairpin further. "Does it please you?"

She held the hairpin to her chest and smiled up at him. "Very much so. Thank you, Father."

He mirrored her smile. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed her tight, placing a rough kiss atop her head. The doors opened and Rosey walked in. She bowed before the Prince and Princess. Alyssa nodded in acknowledgment while Daemon watched the handmaid suspiciously. "I've brought something for Rhaenyra as well."

"What about your unborn nephew?"

Daemon hummed. He stepped aside to allow Rosey to direct Alyssa behind the partition near the dresser. "There is no telling if the queen will actually produce a son."

"Try not to look too disappointed should she have another girl," she teased. Alyssa hissed as Rosey yanked her tunic off, having pulled a coil of hair. "Could you be any rougher, Rosey?"

"I'm sorry, Princess."

Alyssa shimmied out of her trousers and stepped into the burgundy dress Rosey had set out earlier. It was a fairly simple silk gown with a beaded belt of black crystals that tied around her waist. Rosey worked on securing the laces up the back, pulling hard. Alyssa grunted with each tug until Daemon could hear no more. He walked around the partition. "Go."

Rosey's eyes grew wide. "My prince?"

"Get out before I drag you out."

Rosey stared at him for a moment then stepped away from Alyssa and curtsied before scurrying away. Daemon huffed and grabbed the threads of Alyssa's dress, finishing the work. "I'll choose a new handmaiden for you. I suspect that one was sent by your mother."

"I think you're right. The sheep are prettied than her."

Daemon chuckled. He fluffed his daughter's hair and then stepped away, his hand going to her back to steer her out from the partition. "Tell your cousin to meet me in the throne room later. I shall give her my gift then."

Alyssa eyed her father curiously. She grabbed a pair of red shoes to match her dress, deciding not to change her stockings. "What are you planning?"

"No plan. Simply wish to dote on my niece as I do you." She watched Daemon closely as he said his words. Not meeting her eyes, absentmindedly toying with a pillow on the chaise by the window.

Alyssa rubbed her fingers together as she thought. "Mother wrote to me again," she said. "Found a match for me, apparently."

Daemon peered out the window. "Has she?"

"Some boy from the branch of House Arryn. In Gulltown, I believe." She took a few steps towards Daemon. "She means to send him here for us to meet."

"I'll take care of it."

"Kepa, what if..." her voice trailed off upon seeing the look on her father's face. She clasped her hands behind her back, lowering her head in an almost childlike submission. In her mind, she said a silent prayer to the Old Gods of Valyria that her father protected her from her mother's machinations. Being only 14 and a girl, she couldn't refuse a marriage proposal on her own. Daemon was her sole lifeline.

His gaze softened a bit as he studied his daughter. "Go on," he said. "Don't keep the queen waiting."

Tourney Grounds, the next day...

Alyssa sat at the front of the royal viewing box. Between Alicent and herself was an empty seat. Rhaenyra's seat. The Small Council had filed into their own seats. Alyssa looked back, waiting for her cousin to appear. Alicent leaned in to whisper to Alyssa. "Where is she?"

Alyssa shrugged, exasperated. She peered across the viewing box where Princess Rhaenys' children sat with their governess. King Viserys arrived, flanked by Lord Commander Ryam, Ser Otto, and the rest of the Kingsguard. The king walked the long way around to his seat, stopping by Alyssa. He leaned down, "Where is Rhaenyra?"

"I don't know, your grace. She told us to come without her."

Viserys sighed, rolling his eyes as he continued to his chair. The crowd of noble lords and small folk equally cheered, eager for the tournament to commence. The competing knights lined up to face the royal viewing box. Most were styled in armor bearing the sigils and colors of their houses, save for one who wore rusty armor with a beat-up shield. Prince Daemon was easy to spot. Black armor with a dragon-winged helmet. He towered over the others by sure presence alone. King Viserys stood, raising his hands to silence the crowd. "Be welcome!"

As he spoke, Princess Rhaenyra hurried into the box. She crouched down as best she could and scurried down to her seat, ignoring the looks Alicent and Alyssa shot at her. "I know many of you have traveled long leagues to be at these games," the king continued. "But I promise, you will not be disappointed. When I look at these fine knights in these lists, I see a group without equal in our histories. And this great day has been made more auspicious by the news that I am happy to share...Queen Aemma has begun her labors!"

The crowd cheered harder. "May the luck of the Seven shine upon all combatants!"

Queen's Chambers...

Queen Aemma breathed as her belly clenched. The pain was all too familiar. The midwives hovered around, ready to assist should the desire to push come. Grand Maester Mellos whispered with his apprentice Maesters and the Septas. Aemma paid them no mind. She groaned as the pressure in her lower abdomen grew. She dropped to her knees at the side of the bed, grabbing the post of the footboard. The midwives surrounded her, rubbing her back and supporting her weight. Grand Maester Mellos hurried over. "Your grace, you must get onto the-!"

"I need to push now!" She squeezed the footboard post. Her heart was racing with a mix of emotions. She had done this half a dozen times. But a large part of her feared what would come forth. Would it be stillborn? Would it cling to life for only a moon's turn as did her last son? Her only reprieve was that this truly was the last time. No more...

Aemma pushed in tandem with her contractions. She vaguely heard Mellos giving her instructions. "The head is through, your grace," Mellos told her. "Another push."

The queen took several deep breaths and pushed once again. An unbelievable amount of pressure, almost unbearable, and then it was gone. She fell upon the bed, heaving in relief. A babe's cries filled the room. Ear-piercing and angry. Aemma summoned the strength to turn. "It's...it's alive?"

"Yes, your grace," Mellos said as the newborn continued to wail. "A girl. Congratulations, your grace."

Aemma cried out once more in relief. In that moment, she did not care about Viserys' impending disappointment. The midwives helped Aemma deliver the afterbirth and eased her into the bed. Mellos looked over the fussy girl, finding no deformities, no problems with her breathing. He wrapped the child and came around to the queen's side. "She is small, my queen, but healthy. Have you and his grace chosen a name?"

Aemma raised her arms for her daughter. The baby girl fussed and squirmed, her little fists clenched tightly. Aemma smiled at the babe's angry little face. "Daella. Her name is Daella."

"A beautiful name, your grace."

Aemma could only laugh in agreement. Finally! A healthy child. It was all she wanted. All she prayed for. The midwives waited on the otherside of the bed next to the small tub of warm water, but dared not to disturb the queen. Aemma wanted the moment to last forever. The feeling of her newborn in her arms...alive and fiery...she hadn't felt that happiness since Rhaenyra was born. She relished in it. And then a sharp pain interrupted her joy. "Your grace?" Mellos and the midwives swarmed.

"Something's...," her voice trailed off. She opened her eyes and looked up at the Grand Maester. "There's another."

"Another child? Twins!" Mellos gestured for the midwives to take Princess Daella as he climbed onto the bed. Aemma spread her legs as she threw herself back against the pillows, gritting her teeth as pain greater than before ripped through her belly. Mellos reached down to check the progress of the second child. Aemma could feel his fingers deep within. He was never gentle. Methodical and rough. "The babe is breached."

Aemma cried out as she threw her head back onto the pillow. "No...no, no...!" Not again! Her cries turned into wails once more as the pain grew and grew.

Tourney grounds...

Alyssa, Rhaenyra, and Alicent watched the jousting commence with excitement. The unknown knight with rusty armor was tearing through his opponents left and right. "A mystery knight?" Rhaenyra wondered. "How exciting."

"Could he be from the Riverlands?" Alyssa suggested.

"No, a Cole," Alicent said. "From the Stormlands."

"Never heard of House Cole."

"A hedge knight?" Alyssa added.

Alicent only shrugged in response. Lord Boremund Baratheon steered his horse up to the royal box. "Princess Rhaenys Targaryen," he bellowed. "I humbly ask the favor of the Queen Who Never Was!"

Princess Rhaenys stood, shooting her husband a smile. She grabbed her handmade favor from the small table and threw it onto Lord Baratheon's lance. "Good fortune to you, Uncle."

"I would gladly take it if I thought I needed it."

Princess Rhaenys bid him farewell and returned to her seat as Lord Baratheon got into position while the mysterious Cole knight was on the other. Rhaenyra fidgeted with her necklace as she watched the joust and Cole unseated Lord Baratheon. "Lord Stokeworth's daughter is promised to that young Tarly squire."

"Lord Massey's son?" Alyssa asked. "Thought Lord Stokeworth wanted his daughter married to a knight."

"He does."

"Best get on with it," Alicent said. "Lady Elinor is likely hiding a swollen belly beneath her dress."

The two princesses dropped their jaws as Alicent smiled slyly. Ser Gwayne Hightower approached the royal box, lifting the visor of his tower-shaped helmet. "Princess Alyssa Targaryen," he called.

Alyssa looked at her friends in surprise. She went to the guard rail. Ser Gwayne smiled up at her. "I humbly request your favor, Princess."

The princess raised an eyebrow. She glanced over to where Ser Otto sat, a smug little smirk on his face. Alyssa snorted but gave Ser Gwayne a polite smile. She grabbed her favor, a wreath of dark leaves and red, feathery flowers, and placed it on his lance. "Good luck, Ser Gwayne."

He bowed his head and then flashed her a charming smile. "Thank you, Princess."

Alyssa pressed her lips together in an attempt to suppress the smile creeping out. She settled in her seat, purposefully avoiding Rhaenyra and Alicent's eyes boring into her. Rhaenyra nudged Alyssa's shoulder with her own. "Won't your father be furious?"

"He will be," she said. "I wager he'll pick Ser Gwayne as his first opponent. No offense, Alicent."

"None taken," Alicent assured her. "It's a tournament, after all."

The highborn knights lined up once more in front of the royal viewing box. The Master of Revels announced the last tilt of the first round. "Prince Daemon of House Targaryen, Prince of the City, will now choose his first opponent!"

Alyssa watched her face slowly make his way down the line of knights. No doubt studying their worth. He stopped in front of Ser Gwayne and pointed his lance at the young knight's chest. Alyssa smiled to herself. Predictable. She looked over at Alicent who smiled, but fear was evident in her eyes. "I'm sure my father won't treat him too harshly."

Alicent did not have the heart to respond. The challengers took their positions at opposite ends of the arena. Prince Daemon made quick work of Ser Gwayne, angling his lance down to the horse's feet. Ser Gwayne flew off his horse, landing with a loud thud onto his side. Alicent flinched at the sound, ripping the corner of her thumbnail. Rhaenyra grabbed each girl's hand, dragging them with her to the guard rail as Prince Daemon approached. "Well done, Uncle."

"Thank you, Princess," he said.

"Honestly, Father, you could at least go easy on these poor knights."

Daemon chuckled. "Where's the fun in that, my dear?" His eyes flicked to Alicent. "Now, I'm fairly certain I can win these games, Lady Alicent-" he rested the edge of his lance on the rail "-wearing your favor. It would all but assure it."

Alicent blushed. She turned to the small table to grab her favor, noting her father watching her with an unreadable expression. Her smile faltered a bit. She fiddled with the favor, debating momentarily whether to refuse Daemon, but courtesy drove her to place the wreath onto his lance. "Good luck, my Prince."

The tournament continued with unabashed violence. Lances splintered, and men fell off their horses. Rage and bloodlust drove them to brutalize each other. Alicent jumped every time a combatant took a fatal blow. The sound of the bones breaking pierced her ears. Alyssa leaned forward in her seat as the Bolton knight savagely hacked at the Stark. A Bracken stabbed a Blackwood. A Lannister nearly decapitated a Tyrell. On and on it went, each tilt growing more and more bloody. Alyssa has lost count of the number of teeth that littered the ground. And by no surprise, Prince Daemon dominated the tournament. Opponent after opponent fell to his lance.

The day had grown long, but the last combatants finally met for the final round of the day. The Master of Revels waved his flag. "Ser Criston Cole will now tilt against Prince Daemon Targaryen, Prince of the City!"

The crowd cheered harder. The men kicked their horses into gear, aiming their lances. Daemon's lance slammed into Criston's chest. He faltered atop his horse but remained in the saddle. And once again, Father is the winner, Alyssa noted. They turned around, receiving fresh lances, and met again. This time both of their lances splintered against their respective shields. With the final tilt, Criston arced his lance, nailing Daemon across his chest. The prince was knocked back, still strapped to his horse as he fell onto the divider, his armor making a sharp shrill sound as he slid along it. Daemon reached for the reins, trying to pull himself up but then the divider disappeared and he fell onto the ground. Daemon swiftly got his feet. "Sword!"

His squire, a young Darklyn boy, came running with Dark Sister. Ser Criston dismounted and was given a plain morning star. Alyssa moved to the edge of her seat, craning her neck to see. "Prince Daemon Targaryen wishes to continue in a contest of arms!" the Master of Revels declared.

Ser Criston attacked first, swinging his morning star as if it were as light as a feather. Daemon blocked the attack and slashed with his Valyrian blade, slicing chunks off Criston's worn-down shield. The knight returned the favor by smashing Daemon's shield to bits. He dodged, ducked, and blocked. Daemon kicked Criston square in the chest and brought his sword down like an axe. The knight rolled away just in time. He got to his feet and swung his morning star again, letting it wrap around Dark Sister. Daemon pulled Criston in close, punching him this way and that. Criston knocked Daemon to the ground. The prince rolled away from the knight's kick and grabbed his shattered shield. He then threw it at Criston's face, knocking the man flat on his back. The dragon prince got up, cheering along with the crowd at his assumed victory.

Alyssa cheered and clapped. "Issa, kepa!"

Somehow Daemon heard her in the roar of the audience. He pointed to her, a big smile on his face. And then Ser Criston smacked the side of his head with his morning star. Daemon reached for Dark Sister, but Criston kicked the sword away. The prince drew a dagger, ready to end the melee, but Criston stomped on his arm. The knight in rusty armor stood over the prince, morning star raised. "Yield," he said. "Yield."

Daemon released his dagger. A mix of surprised awes and cheers filled the tourney grounds. Alicent grabbed her friends' hands, bringing them to the guard rail with her. Alyssa watched her father storm off while Ser Criston approached the girls, removing his helm, revealing a handsome face despite the blood and grime on it. His dark hair was wild about his head and his dark eyes sparkled with charm. Alicent gasped at the sight of him. "Gods, he's Dornish," she whispered.

"I was hoping to ask for Princess Rhaenyra's favor," he said.

Rhaenyra blinked, a slight blush creeping onto her cheeks. She grabbed her favor and tossed it down to him. The young knight smiled up at her in delight. "I wish you luck, Ser Criston."

"Thank you, Princess."

Alyssa turned away from the guard rail, unsure of how she felt about Ser Criston. As she neared her seat, Ser Otto appeared. He made his way along the second row back, whispering into the ears of Lord Beesbury, Lord Strong, and Lord Velaryon. The members of the Small Council, in turn, whispered to their wives. People began to leave. Alyssa looked to Princess Rhaenys as her husband whispered something in her ear. Her face grew grim and she met Alyssa's gaze before looking pointedly at Rhaenyra's back. The princess gathered her children, instructing them to follow her out. Alyssa hurried to Rhaenyra's side. "I think something's happened."

Outskirts of King's Landing, four days later...

King Viserys stood silently at the head of the funeral procession. He was dressed in muted black and wore his grandfather's crown, but his face was pale with grief. Daemon, Rhaenyra, and Alyssa stood behind him with the Small Council. Alyssa held the four-day-old Princess Daella in her arms. The poor babe had wailed the whole ride down to the cliffs over the Blackwater. She only calmed when Alyssa took her, singing old Valyrian lullabies until the newborn princess fell asleep. Syrax waited atop a small mound, flanked by dragonkeepers. Queen Aemma's body lay atop a large funeral pyre, wrapped in Targaryen-colored silk. There was a smaller pyre next to hers. Prince Baelon, Daella's twin, was wrapped in the same silk, his little body dwarfed by his mother's.

Everyone stood in silence, awaiting Rhaenyra to command her dragon and put her mother and brother to rest. But the young princess could only stare and cry silent tears. Daemon looked at his newborn niece in his daughter's arms. A girl born in the midst of death and innocently ignorant of the grief that surrounded her. He sighed and walked over to Rhaenyra, urging her to do what her father cannot. She stepped closer to the pyre. Syrax raised her head in attention. "Dr...," Rhaenyra looked at her father for a moment, then summoned her resolve. "Drakarys!"

Syrax crawled down from the mound and set the pyres ablaze. Fresh tears fell from Rhaenyra's eyes. She stepped back as the fire roared, completely enveloping all the wood. She went to Alyssa and gently took her sister. Daella fussed for a moment then settled. Alyssa wrapped an arm around Rhaenyra's shoulders and the princess welcomed the comfort. She looked over at her father once again, seeing him stare helplessly at the flames. "The gods are cruel," Alyssa said.

Rhaenyra gently rocked her baby sister in her arms. "It wasn't the gods that killed my mother."

Two days later...

Alyssa sat in her room, staring at the flames within her fireplace. The castle itself had become a sullen place since the death of Queen Aemma and Prince Baelon. Rhaenyra hardly left her chambers, often summoning Alyssa and Alicent to visit her. There was an unspoken tension hovering around Princess Daella. Gossip spread over the prediction of the babe living to see the next full moon. By all accounts, Daella seemed healthy. But one could never be certain given the fate of Rhaenyra's dead siblings. Alyssa suggested a ride that morning, but Rhaenyra turned her down. I wonder if our dragons truly feel our grief and despair...

The doors to her chambers burst open, causing Alyssa to jump in her chair. "We are leaving."

Daemon stomped across the room to Alyssa's dresser, grabbing her riding clothes and tossing them to her. Alyssa obeyed the silent command, shimming out of her nightgown once she was behind the partition. "What's happened? Where are we going?"

"Zaldrīzdōron."

Dragonstone? Alyssa hurriedly changed her clothes, putting her hair in a simple braid, and grabbed her boots. She had hardly finished tying her boots into place when Daemon appeared and practically dragged her out of her room. The servants watched them whisk past with wide eyes. "Father, wait. Father!" Alyssa wiggled out of Daemon's hold. She was a foot shorter than him and couldn't keep up with his long strides. "Why are we going to Dragonstone?"

Daemon sighed. He took a moment to calm himself. "My brother has dismissed me from court. I've been ordered to return to the Vale. As my daughter, you are part of my household and must leave with me."

Alyssa blinked. "Why would he dismiss you? What happened? What did you do?"

Daemon turned his glare towards the stairs, shaking his head. "I spoke only the truth to him. He would rather remain in ignorance while his Small Council picks him apart like vultures to a carcass."

Alyssa frowned. "And you incite him further by going to Dragonstone instead of the Vale?" Daemon scoffed. "Why must I go, too? Rhaenyra needs me."

He turned to her, his tone firm and unyielding. "You are my daughter, Alyssa. And I will have you by my side."

He held his hand out to her. Alyssa reluctantly nodded, placing her palm into his. They walked down to the stables with less eagerness. Daemon whispered something in Lieutenant Harwin Strong's ear as the stable boys readied two horses. Alyssa mounted her chestnut-colored mare and followed her father to the castle gate. The city was loud at night. People pushed each other, fighting for every bit of space they could take, only parting for Daemon and Alyssa. Some of the smallfolk bowed in respect to the Prince of the City and his daughter. Alyssa stole glances back at the castle, her heart growing heavy with guilt. I'll write to them once we get to Dragonstone, she promised.

They rode around the Dragonpit to the western entrance. Daemon slid off his horse in a huff. "Bring Caraxes and Starfyre here. We are leaving."

"Yes, my prince," the dragonkeeper said with a bow.

Alyssa watched her father pace around the entrance. The familiar whistle of the Blood Wyrm came from the stables, and Daemon disappeared inside. Alyssa heaved a heavy sigh and followed after him, each step feeling like utter betrayal. Caraxes was grouchy. He hated being woken up so late in the night. Daemon soothed his mount, whispering soft words to him. Starfyre was still half-asleep, rumbling with a desire to return to her cove. Alyssa approached her, scratching the dragon's favorite spot on her nose. Starfyre growled low in her throat. "I know, I know."

The dragons were directed to the stable entrance. Alyssa climbed onto Starfyre's saddle and tightened the safety belts around her waist. A white horse appeared bearing an unknown rider hidden beneath a white cloak. "Father, who is that?"

Daemon smiled as the rider dismounted. The short figure moved elegantly towards them. They drew back their hood, revealing long, dark hair and a foreign face. Daemon kissed her hand. "Mysaria."

Mysaria curtsied with a stiff smile. Her dark eyes flicked to Alyssa. Daemon turned to his daughter with a boyish smile on his face. "My paramour. She is coming with us."

Alyssa rolled her eyes, looking away. A part of her screamed to return to the Red Keep. To fall before Viserys and beg him to let her stay. Her father's rebellious antics be damned. She loved Daemon. She trusted him. Truly. But he was chaos incarnate and rarely considered the consequences of his actions. I should go back, she told herself. The king is lenient and forgiving. Perhaps he might even-

"Alyssa," Daemon called.

She met his gaze. Mysaria sat behind Daemon, her arms wrapped tightly around his waist. Daemon softened his eyes as he stared back at his daughter. A silent plea passing between them. Come with me. Alyssa squeezed the reins in her grip then surrendered, nodding her head. Daemon smiled warmly but triumphantly. The dragonkeepers stepped aside as Caraxes and Starfyre crawled out. They stretched their wings, warming up their muscles. Starfyre was young and still growing, currently only half of Caraxes' length. The dragons flapped their wings and took off into the sky. Alyssa's face grew cold from the spritz of the salty air of the Blackwater. Caraxes let out a shrill whistle as he slithered through the clouds. Alyssa took one final glance back at the Red Keep as Starfyre took her farther and farther away. Goodbye...

End of Chapter 1

Author's Note: Please excuse any mistakes I make in the High Valyrian phrases.

Kepa - Father

Tala - Daughter