Rhaenyra looked over her shoulder. The Iron Throne loomed behind her.
She smiled inwardly. If only father knew what she and Daemon had done on that throne.
"Rhaenyra," her father said. "Pay attention. The Lords are coming in."
"Yes, father."
She looked forward again.
One boring Lord after the other entered. Rhaenyra put on a fake smile as her thoughts drifted back to Daemon.
Laenor joined her shortly after. Luckily, the two of them had an understanding. He liked geese.
She liked dragon.
Then, someone else entered. Someone who made a hush fall over the crowd.
What was he doing here?
Daemon calmly walked up to the podium, wearing the black and red colors of house Targaryen and his signature smirk.
Luckily, father didn't make a scene. He cleared a seat at the edge of the table and Daemon sat down. He shared a look with Rhaenyra.
Then, her father started his speech. He was briefly interrupted by Queen Alicent making her entrance. She was wearing a marvellous green dress.
Rhaenyra shared a look with Daemon.
This was not good. Rhaenyra might as well openly declare war right now.
However, her father continued his speech as if nothing happened (with a little help from his loyal Hand). Then, it was time to dance. She danced with Laenor and Ser Harwin after that. And then, he found her.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, in High Valyrian.
"I couldn't miss this opportunity," Daemon said. "You look nice. I like what they did with your hair."
He pulled her into a dance.
"I like your hair too," she said. "It looks better when it's short."
"It has to be short. Easier for battles."
"We're not at war right now," Rhaenyra pointed out.
"Oldtown has already called its banners."
"We have Leanor now."
"He'll be a valuable ally," Daemon admitted. "But he won't be enough. How are you doing with Ser Criston?"
"What do you mean?" Rhaenyra asked.
"He owes his position to you. If we can make him Commander of the Kingsguard, we'll have eyes and ears on the King and Queen. Not to mention hands to-"
"Ser Harrold is Commander," she said.
"For now. You need to start playing the Game, Princess. People are moving their pieces all around you. If you do not act, you'll find yourself surrounded before you know it."
"I don't like this. I'm no good at it."
"You have already done it," Daemon encouraged her. "When Alicent confronted you in the garden."
"How do you know about that?"
"How did Alicent know about that?" Daemon shot back.
"She overheard the Hand…"
Wait…
Daemon raised one eyebrow. "You think that was an accident? Don't be silly, Princess. You think she accidentally interrupted your father's speech just now? She's playing the fucking Game."
Rhaenyra shook her head. "I just want to be your Little Princess again. I want-"
"You will be," Daemon assured her. "But-"
"Prince Daemon," a new voice cut in.
"Ser Criston?" Daemon asked. "Where's your helmet?"
"You are needed outside, my Prince. There is an issue with Caraxes."
"I'll be back soon," Daemon said. He quickly left the room to tend to his dragon.
"What's wrong with Caraxes?" Rhaenyra asked.
Ser Criston pulled her away from the crowd.
"You need to be more careful, Princess," he spoke in a hushed tone. "Your father is watching. And you know how he feels about Daemon."
Oh.
Rhaenyra took a deep breath. Daemon was right. She had to act.
"Thank you, Ser Criston."
"There's no need to thank me, Princess," Ser Criston replied. "It's my job to protect you. Against all possible threats. As I did to the Queen."
"What?"
"The Queen summoned me, Princess. Asking me questions about moon tea and…" he looked around furtively. "Lapses in morals."
"And what did you tell her?" Rhaenyra asked.
"The truth," Ser Criston said. "Moon tea was delivered to you, but the following morning, it was still there. Undrunk. I let the servants take it away."
"Who told her about the moon tea?"
"I do not know, Princess. But I have a suspicion."
"Yes?"
"One of my sworn brothers was guarding the Queen. He saw her talking in the Godswood with Larys Strong. Soon after, I was summoned."
Rhaenyra steeled herself. Looks like she had a new dance partner.
"Thank you, Ser Criston. Keep up the good work."
"Yes, Princess."
Rhaenyra scanned the crowd. Where was…
Ah, there he was.
"Oh, by the way," she turned back to Ser Criston. "I need you to talk to the musicians. Tell them to change their tune to match me."
"Princess? I don't understand."
"You'll see."
She made her way through the crowd to Larys. He spotted her long before she made it there.
"Lord Larys."
"Princess?"
"Why don't you dance with me?" she offered.
"I'm afraid I'm not a very good dancer, Princess." He spoke slowly, choosing each word with great care.
"Oh neither am I. Come on." She held out her hand. "Don't refuse the Princess."
He accepted her hand. The other hand gripped his cane.
She guided him to the dance floor. People quickly made way for them.
All eyes were on the two of them now. Larys Clubfoot was probably the last person anyone in this room expected to dance with the Princess. The Realm's Delight.
"Follow my lead," she instructed. While holding his hand, Rhaenyra started to slowly turn. He turned with her.
They were completely off rhythm. Larys' cane bumped against the ground with every step as they circled each other.
Everyone had stopped dancing to watch them now.
"We're off beat," Larys pointed out.
"This is my wedding party," Rhaenyra said. "The beat is whatever I say it is."
Then, the music changed. Looks like Ser Criston had gotten through to them.
A much slower song began. His cane was now matching the rhythm.
Larys smiled briefly. Then, he shook his head. "Why are you doing this, Princess?"
"You see all these people? You see them gawking at you? They are all obsessed. They are obsessed with all these silly things. If anything doesn't fit their worldview, they dismiss it. They dismiss you because you're a woman, because you don't come from the right family, because you walk with a cane. But I don't care about any of that. When I saw Ser Criston, I saw a man with real battle experience. A man who could protect me, better than any of the men who had the right name."
"A name is important, Princess. If I hadn't been born a Strong, they might have left me to die."
"Yes. But you could be so much more than just a second son with a cane. And Queen Alicent will not give it to you."
Larys missed a beat. But he recovered quickly.
"I saw you dance with my brother," he said.
"Ah yes," Rhaenyra said. "He's very friendly with me. I imagine he would like to be Commander of the City Watch one day."
"And you can make that happen?"
"I am Heir to the Iron Throne," she reminded him.
"Yes. But Queen Alicent shares the King's bed."
"I got Ser Criston Cole on the Kingsguard. I made your father Hand of the King."
"And I am grateful for that, Princess."
"Well you have an odd way of showing it."
"When one is rarely invited to speak, one learns to observe," Larys said. "However, sometimes one must speak, so one can observe the effects of their words."
"I am inviting you to speak, Lord Larys."
The song ended. There was an awkward silence. But then, Lord Lyonel Strong started clapping. When they saw the Hand of the King clapping, everyone else quickly joined in.
"Until next time, Lord Larys," she said.
"I look forward to it, Princess."
Rhaenyra made her way back to the table. A new song started. Slowly, the dance floor filled again.
Rhaenyra sat down next to father. He was alone now (save for a handful of guards nearby). The Queen was dancing and the Hand was talking to one of the guards. Her fiance was nowhere to be seen.
"What was that all about?" her father asked.
"Huh? I was dancing."
"With him?"
"You didn't complain when I danced with Ser Harwin. Is there something different about his brother?"
The King cleared his throat. "Of course not."
"Good."
"Where's Daemon?" Viserys asked.
"Tending to Caraxes," she said. "Father, I've been thinking. We should do something about him."
"He's going back to the Vale to claim his inheritance."
"They will never let him have it."
"I'll make them," Viserys said. "I'm the King."
"They'll kill him," Rhaenyra said. "Everyone there believes he murdered Rhea."
Viserys shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
"Slanderous accusations," he muttered.
"Even so. They believe it. And sending him away doesn't solve anything. You know Daemon is. Before the year is out, he'll start stealing dragon eggs again to get your attention."
"What do you propose?" he asked.
"We find Daemon a new wife. Someone who can keep him in check."
Viserys chuckled. "Good luck with that."
"There is one person who has a history of taming wild dragons," Rhaenyra pointed out.
Viserys paused for a moment. "Hm."
"If anyone else married her, it could threaten our alliance with House Velaryon," Rhaenyra pointed out.
"That is true."
"If-"
"One wedding at a time, my dear. I will consider your proposal."
"Thank you, father."
Rhaenyra smiled inwardly. This was a lot easier than she expected.