Chapter 18

Author's Note: Apologies for the delay! I traveled quite a bit for the holidays. Also, I started a second job so my free time is very limited, but I will write and post when I can.

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, age-gap relationships, and some sexual content

Trigger warnings: mentions of sexual abuse, mentions of underage sexual assault/content

Enjoy


Sunspear, Dorne, 134 AC...

Sybella stood beside Prince Qoren and Princess Alyssa during the Hour of the Wolf in the empty Sept of the palace. They bore witness as Prince Aemond and Princess Daella said their vows before Septon Cassan. Sybella had her hands folded in front of her as she titled her shoulders side-to-side in a sort of quiet dance, a small smile on her face. Qoren leaned closer to Alyssa. "You should've consulted me before granting them permission to wed."

"And you should've consulted me before accepting Daella's betrothal offer," she said quietly. Cassan wrapped a ribbon around Aemond and Daella's hands. "If you had allowed us a chance to 'consider' the offer, I would've counseled against the match. Taking a political hostage would've solved the issue."

Qoren shrugged, raising his hands innocently. "Don't blame me for being opportunistic."

"Then don't blame me for giving my cousin a chance to save herself."

He rolled his eyes, shaking his head slightly before pinching the bridge of his nose. "I will never understand you Targaryens. You act as if every decision affects the fate of the world."

"As high as we stand, our decisions do affect the fate of the world," Alyssa said. "Or at least, it affects Westeros. Daella may have had the authority to offer Daeron's hand, but she had no right to do so. The Greens will punish her. She crippled them...and a cornered animal with nothing to lose is dangerous."

"Well, should we ask the Dreamer?" Qoren gestured to Sybella. They both turned to her. "Have you seen what the future holds, my dear?"

Sybella fidgeted under their expectant gazes. She peeked over at Aemond and Daella as they shared their first kiss as husband and wife. "I've seen many things...but I cannot say for certain whether we've truly avoided the war that's been plaguing my dreams."

"We must've avoided it," Alyssa guessed. "You said you saw dragons fighting."

"I did...that hasn't really changed. I still see dragons fighting."

Qoren sighed and pointed to the newlyweds. "I knew we shouldn't have allowed them to marry."

"No, this was meant to be," Sybella said quickly. A faint blush appeared on her cheeks despite the sad, faraway look in her eyes. "Whatever may come...it is by the dead queen's blood that House Targaryen survives."

Guest Chambers, later...

Daella glanced around as the servants exited, bowing their heads to the newlyweds. Warmth poured in from the fireplace. The curtains had been pulled over the window, giving the room an eerie glow from the candles that decorated the room. Daella walked around the sitting area to the dining table, her hand casually running along the top of the sofa. Wine and snacks were set up on the table. She grabbed the pitcher and glanced back at Aemond. "Would you like some wine?"

He shook his head. Daella poured herself a cup, hoping the Dornish red would ease her nervousness. She heard Aemond slowly make his way around the sofas. Before he got too close, she walked around the table so that they were at opposite ends. He stared at her questioningly. Daella set the cup down, her shyness taking hold of her. "I wish to be honest with you. I'm quite...I'm quite anxious."

"Was your promise to corrupt me just words, then?" he said with a soft smirk.

"It wasn't. I fully intend to make good on that promise." Daella fidgeted with her cup. "I suppose I'm coming to terms with reality. Until an hour ago, I thought you were no longer mine."

"And now we are bound forever," he said. "Or we will be once we consummate our marriage."

She smiled down at her wine before meeting his gaze. As subtle as he tried to make it, she could hear the eagerness in his voice loud and clear. "There are many things I want to do with you, things I want to do to you. For now, I'd rather ease into it...so as to not frighten you or disgust you."

"Nothing about you could ever disgust me."

Daella swallowed her rising doubt. She licked her lips, summoning her courage. "You deserve honesty...I had a lover. I suppose you could call her my paramour, but it was a bit more complicated than that."

Aemond blinked. Numerous questions ran through his mind as he stared at her. "Who was she?"

"You wouldn't know her," she said. "In hindsight, I should've never indulged her. She preyed on my curiosity...yet, she taught me many things about myself. Invaluable things that I needed to know."

Aemond hummed. "But you are a maiden?"

"You're so cute when you're jealous." She chuckled at his frown. "I lost my maidenhead to Silverwing many years ago. Do you intend to spurn me now that you know the truth?"

"You are my wife. I will never spurn you."

Her smile softened. "Are you a maiden, then?"

He turned his back toward the fireplace, hiding his face in the shadows. "You deserve honesty as well...and I would hope you'd show me the same courtesy that I have shown you."

"Of course."

"On my thirteenth nameday...Aegon took me to the Street of Silk. To a brothel at the top of the hill." He peeked at her, noticing her blank expression. "He said it was his duty to ensure that I was as educated as he was. He paid for me to spend the night with the madam."

Daella's eye twitched. "You were thirteen?"

He nodded. "I have not been with a woman since, I swear."

She placed her hands on the table, willing herself to remain calm. Fuck you, Aegon. A strong part of her burned with the need to fly to King's Landing at once and smash Aegon's face into a wall. But she didn't want to ruin the night with thoughts of vengeance and anger. "Did you..." she struggled to find the right words, struggled to sound neutral "...did you at least enjoy it?"

"I finished," he said.

Daella promptly swallowed every drop of wine in her cup. The momentary buzz helped ease her mind. Her nervousness was gone despite her heart racing with anticipation. Her eyes followed the profile of his face. The imperfect slope of his nose, his prominent cupid's bow, his strong jaw...his scar. After a long silence, she finally spoke. "Take off your eyepatch."

Aemond reached for it, but stopped himself, lowering his arm. "Take it off," she said. "I want to see you."

He hesitated once again before turning to face her fully, removing his eyepatch. Daella expected to see a hollow socket, but instead, a brilliant, shiny sapphire sat where his left eye had been. It sparkled in the firelight. Daella suppressed a smirk. "Is that the same sapphire that was on the knife I gifted you three years ago?"

"It is."

She tilted her head. "Did you put it there so that you always had a reminder of me?"

He grunted, averting her gaze. "It suits me. That's all."

Daella walked around the table, her eyes never leaving his as she approached. Aemond's throat bobbed as he swallowed. Daella gazed up at him, studying every inch of his face. She drew closer, her hands snaking up behind his head. She pulled the leather tie off and combed her fingers through his hair. Aemond slid his hand around the back of her neck, leaning down to kiss her. He could taste the wine on her lips, on her tongue. His other hand wrapped around her waist as their passion grew. Daella pulled away, grabbing his hands with her own. She gave him a coy smile as she led him around the partition that separated the sleeping area from the rest of the room.

The bed was large and round, piled high with cushions and blankets of various golds and purples. More candles were littered about with a few lanterns hanging from the ceiling, giving the area a moody glow. Daella stopped a few feet from the bed, placing a hand on Aemond's chest. "Stay here."

He grunted. A soft, defiant sound. Aemond grabbed onto her belt and yanked her to him, kissing her once again. Daella smiled into their kiss and then leaned her head back. "Trust me." She gave him another kiss. "Stay right here."

Aemond reluctantly obliged, his fingers twitching with the urge to touch her as she walked away from him. Daella sat down on the edge of the bed, crossing her legs as she leaned back, using her hands to brace herself. She had a look on her face that Aemond had only seen once...the day she took him by surprise and threw him to the ground. A small part of him grew nervous by that look, unsure of what to expect. Daella used her foot to gesture to his body. "Take off your clothes."

He couldn't say what compelled him to obey. His body seemed to move on its own. Aemond slipped his belt off and dropped it unceremoniously to the floor. Her eyes stayed on his as he undid the clasps of his shirt. He tossed it somewhere behind him and then began unlacing his tunic. Daella's gaze lowered to the sliver of flesh peeking through the laces. Aemond lifted the tunic up and over his head, his stomach stretching. Daella inhaled sharply, uncrossing her legs. He wiggled his boots off, grunting softly as he pulled them off. They made loud thud sounds when he discarded them. Aemond dipped his thumbs into the waistband of his trousers. He pushed them down to his ankles and then kicked them off.

Daella's violet eyes swept over him, drinking up the sight of his nakedness. Noting the curve of his muscles, the outline of his abs, the blush on his cheeks...his cock, growing hard the longer she stared. She snapped her eyes up to his. "I want you to touch yourself."

Aemond's face reddened as he swallowed, processing her words. "There is no one here but us," she said. Her voice was calm and soothing. "No one else will see you but me. Only me."

Daella undid the first two silver dragon clasps of her riding coat. "You're safe with me."

His eye followed the movement of her hands. Aemond's heart skipped a beat as she pulled her coat open, seeing the swell of her breasts beneath her tunic. Daella leaned forward, resting her forearms on her thighs. Her gaze darkened, a hint of anger in her desire. "Touch yourself."

Aemond placed a hand on his stomach, his fingers sliding down. Daella watched him begin with a simple stroke, noting the way his wrist twisted. She absentmindedly pulled on the tie of her tunic. Aemond could see the scar on her chest, see it dip down toward her left breast. The neckline opened wider, giving him a glimpse of her nipples. His lips parted and he inhaled deeply, that familiar creep of pleasure spreading through him. Aemond's shyness evaporated from the way she looked at him, violet eyes full of silent praise and adoration.

His trance faltered when she suddenly kicked off her boots. Daella shimmied out of her coat, tossing it away. "Come here."

He practically ran to her. Daella raised her leg, placing her foot against his chest, stopping him in his tracks. Aemond grabbed her ankle instinctively. He had intended to shove her leg aside and pounce on her, but her scolding gaze held him back. She pushed against his chest, forcing him to take a step back. "Get on your knees for me."

Aemond hesitated, squeezing her ankle defiantly. Daella raised an eyebrow as she slid her toes up to the base of his throat. "I don't like repeating myself...but tonight is an exception. Get on your knees, Aemond."

He shivered from the way she said his name. Slowly, he knelt, his hand still on his cock. Daella lowered her foot and leaned forward. She slid a hand around to the back of his head, grabbing a fistful of his hair. She was nearly close enough to kiss, but she kept Aemond in place. "Keep going. I want to see you come."

It took him a moment to understand her meaning. His head was fuzzy, overwhelmed by everything. Her nearness, her dominance, the lust in her voice. Aemond remembered what she said. It was only them in the room. No one else. Her eyes were the only ones watching him, eager to see him submit. He resumed pleasuring himself. But there was a hesitation. Daella scooted a little closer, pulling on his hair to make his head tilt back. "You're doing so well," she said, grazing his nose with hers. "Won't you come for me?"

Excitement stirred in his belly. He pushed through the haze of his desire, placing his hands on her thighs. "I want to come inside you."

Her eyes sparkled. "Say it again."

"I want to come inside you." He squeezed her legs, gazing up at her pleadingly. "Please."

"Gods, you beg so beautifully." She kissed him, easing her grip on his hair. Aemond slid his hands up to her hips, moving closer. Daella sat back as he trailed kisses down her neck to her chest. He pulled the collar of her tunic down, exposing her scar and breasts fully. Aemond was gentle as he kissed along her scar. He wrapped his lips around her nipple. Daella arched towards him, combing her fingers through his hair. When he tried to pull her tunic off, Daella directed his hands to the laces of her trousers. Aemond practically ripped them off of her, causing Daella to giggle. He threw them somewhere behind him. He slid his hands up her calves and his fingers grazed something on her right calf.

Aemond turned her leg, seeing an inch-long raised scar. An arrow? He found another one on her thigh, but it was lighter, scarcely notable. He traced it with his finger. Daella brushed his hair from his face. There was a silent question in her eyes. Aemond answered by pressing his lips to each scar. His kisses trailed up her inner thigh, and Daella fell back against the bed. She propped herself on her elbows as she watched him settle between her legs. "Do you know what to do?"

He frowned. "Don't tease me."

Daella pushed herself up, cradling his face in her hands. "I would never. You are my husband. I will never laugh at you or tease you...at least, not unless you want me to."

"I want to please you," he said quietly. "I want to taste you. Please...let me."

She smiled and kissed him once more before lying back. Aemond spread her thighs, exploring her first with his fingers. He was mildly surprised by how wet she was. The old whore who had taken his virginity was far from his mind, but the things she taught him were not. He gazed up at his wife as he pressed his tongue to her, focusing on her clit. Slowly at first, growing more confident with every lick. Daella squirmed a bit, moaning as she bit her lip. Aemond listened to every sound, every movement as he explored her. He moved his tongue in a pattern that had her throw her head back with a gasp. Her chest quivered with shallow breaths. Her legs shook against his head. It incited him to push her closer and closer to the edge. Her hand went into his hair, holding him in place as she came, grinding up against his mouth.

Aemond continued, relentless and ravenous as he savored the taste of her release. Daella pushed him off so she could sit up. Her braids were coming undone and her face was flushed with pure desire. She kissed him hungrily before guiding him to lie on his back against the pile of pillows. Aemond settled against them as Daella straddled his waist. His shaky hands went to her hips, squeezing her flesh eagerly. Daella rubbed his arms soothingly as she leaned down to kiss him. She caressed his face, gazing into his eye as she rubbed her thumbs along his jaw. "Avy jorrāelan."

Aemond's breath hitched. He smashed his lips to hers, nearly head-butting her. Daella giggled into their kiss. She snaked a hand down between them. Feeling her fingers wrap around him, Aemond nearly exploded right then and there. His grip on her hips tightened, forcing himself to hold back. A moan escaped his lips as she sunk down onto him, lower and lower until he was fully sheathed inside. Daella sat there for a moment, taking deep breaths as she adjusted to him. She moved slowly at first, rocking in a steady rhythm. Aemond slid his hands up her body, touching her everywhere he could. Daella grabbed his hands, entwining her fingers with his, and then pinned his hands above his head. An unfamiliar type of excitement rippled through Aemond's body as she rocked harder atop him.

"This is where you belong," she whispered. "Buried deep inside me. Filling me."

He squeezed her hands as she continued to whisper in his ear, praising him, encouraging him. It drove him to raise his hips up to meet hers, intensifying the fire burning between them. Aemond's moans grew louder than hers. He was consumed...by her scent, by her sweat, by the heat radiating off her body. He begged her to slow down, warning her that he was close. It only incited Daella further. She chased the edge, rocking harder. Aemond writhed beneath her, arching his back as he came undone. His strangled moans filled the room as he jerked his hips up frantically. Daella's whole body went rigid as her release melted into his, her mouth open in a silent scream of utter bliss. She collapsed on top of him, her legs quivering, her body pulsing from the inside out.

They rolled onto their sides, Aemond still fully inside her. Daella kept her leg wrapped around his waist, clinging to him. Aemond brushed the hair off her face, staring at her wondrously. His heart swelled with such emotion he could never truly express. He reached down around her hip, his fingers finding their connection. She was pulled taut around him. There was no doubt in his mind that this was real. It wasn't another dream. He showered her with kisses. "Avy jorrāelan."

Daella smiled, tucking his hair behind his ear. "We are one now...forever. Whatever may come."

King's Landing, a week later...

Cassandra waddled down the main stairs of Maegor's Holdfast. She had one hand on the underside of her belly to keep it from bouncing too much. There were very few servants walking through the lower levels, but the ones that were made sure to steer clear. Most of the castle staff were in the upper levels, prepping for the arrival of Prince Aemond and Princess Daella. Cassandra reached the bottom of the stairs and marched towards the hall that led to the gardens. People rarely used the hall as it was poorly lit and somehow always damp. Rats often infested it. Even now, Cassandra spotted one. He bowed his head as she approached. "Good morrow, my lady."

She slapped him. Not enough to knock him down, for she knew she could. It was a simple flick of her wrist as the lady in her reminded Cassandra that Larys was a lord. He tucked his stringy curls behind his ear as he pondered the slap. "Interesting way to greet me."

"My sister, Larys," she said quietly. "My sister."

He looked at her. "I warned you of the consequences. One can never fully prepare for all outcomes. Princess Daella betrothing Prince Daeron was not a play I would've made nor was it one I could've foreseen." He shrugged. "We lost."

"This isn't a game," she seethed.

"Oh, but it is. One you've been playing since the moment you arrived."

Cassandra nearly slapped him again. She clenched her fists tight, her manicured nails digging into her palms. "It is solely by the power you wield," he continued, "and the alliance you worked so hard for that your father has been spared. Someone has to take the fall for this, my lady. Your sister is clever enough to understand what she has to do."

She shook her head. "Maris is just a girl. To die a traitor's death...it's not right."

"One sister or the entirety of House Baratheon?" Larys tilted his head from side to side as if he were seriously considering the choice. "The obvious answer is never an easy one, my lady."

Her anger bubbled in her throat. Cassandra knew he was right and she absolutely loathed him for it. "I'm inclined to believe you never wanted this plan to work. You said Princess Alyssa would bring fire and blood to the Marshes and that would provide enough provocation to rid ourselves of the Dornish threat."

"I said it may provide enough provocation." Larys ran the back of his fingers along her cheek, petting her the way he would a flower petal. "If you want my guarantees...you know the price."

Cassandra brushed his hand away. "Why would I pay such a price when all you've delivered is failure?" She stepped closer to him. "I will be Queen one day and I will not cater to a lesser lord like some whore."

"And yet you do worse for your dear husband, don't you?" His smile grew at her recoil. His eyes danced over her body. "You try so hard to be a good and attentive wife to the insatiable young prince. To keep him happy. To keep him under control. It's considerate of him, at least...to leave your face unmarked."

"What goes on in our marriage bed is none one's business," she said carefully, placing a protective hand over her belly. "You'd do well to remember that, Lord Larys."

"And you would do well to remember...that when the day comes and you do become Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, you will be in need of allies." His gaze lowered to her belly for a brief moment. "For the Hightowers are not yours."

Outskirts of Sunspear...

Coryanne lifted her skirts as she walked through the cave, not wanting to get her hems any dirtier. Torches lined the walls, giving the stone an eerie glow. Daeron walked behind her, silent but anxious. He thought they were paying a visit to Tessarion and Starfyre, but his betrothed had ushered him further into the mysterious caves. He hadn't missed the nervous looks the dragonkeepers exchanged. "What's down here?"

"You'll see."

Daeron frowned at the back of her head. He found Coryanne to be rather perplexing. She was one year older but carried the confidence of an archmaester. As clever as she was beautiful, she was sweet yet serious, proper yet laughed the hardest. The complete opposite of what he expected of a Dornish princess. His uncle had warned him that Dornish women were loose and fiery. "Remember the Faith," Lord Hobert told him. "Support the Septon. Turn your betrothed towards the light of the Seven, and the rest of the desert snakes will follow."

He was so lost in thought that he hadn't noticed Coryanne stopped. She grabbed onto his upper arms to keep him from running into her. Daeron mumbled an apology, but she waved it off. "In a couple of years, you and I will be married," she said. "Then...one day, I will become the Princess of Dorne and you will be my Prince Consort."

He nodded, realizing her hands were still on his arms. "And it will be an honor. I swear I will serve you honorably and faithfully as your lord husband and Prince Consort."

"I certainly hope so." She released him, folding her hands together. "Trust is an integral part of a strong marriage. It goes both ways. My father took a leap of faith in marrying my mother. A decision that has benefited Dorne greatly. I wish to do the same with you."

"I'm not sure I follow," he said.

Coryanne grabbed his hands, moving closer to him. In the firelight, she could see his cheeks redden. "I'm going to share a secret with you. It's not...a well-kept one, but that's beside the point. As my future consort, I would hope that you will protect this secret until the time is right to reveal it. And that you would defend Dorne the way my mother has."

"I promise."

She studied the determination on his face, the sincerity in his violet eyes. Satisfied, she led him deeper into the caves. They turned left into a small cove. Heat washed over them. A giant brazier was set in the center. Six dragon eggs rested on hot coals, tendrils of smoke curling around them. Daeron's eyes went wide at the sight. He turned to Coryanne. "You...? Alyssa has...?"

"I know," she said. "But you must understand...these eggs are not just Dorne's future, but House Targaryen's. For too long, our ancestors have kept the power of dragons under tight control."

He frowned, yanking his hand out of hers. "There's good reason for that. Do you have any idea what this means? Not only is your mother a liar, but she has willingly given Dorne the means to overthrow the Seven Kingdoms."

Coryanne scowled as if he was a child throwing a tantrum. "One little lie is a small price to pay in the grand scheme of things."

"Little?" he scoffed.

"Yes. My mother's choice to marry my father may have seemed like an impulsive decision, but it was, in fact, a calculated one. Same as our betrothal." She glanced back at the tunnel to make sure no one was around. "My parents' marriage was the first step towards tying Dorne to the Seven Kingdoms. My sister will marry Prince Jacaerys, the future King, my brother will marry Princess Rhaena, and you and I...don't you see?"

"I see your mother's schemes to guarantee she won't suffer any consequences for her actions."

Coryanne rolled her eyes. "My mother loves us. She loves Dorne. There is no doubt about that love. However, she is very much still loyal to House Targaryen." She held up a hand to silence his protest. "Listen to me. My mother has a vision...Targaryens ingrained in every corner of the Seven Kingdoms. Dragons everywhere."

"What?"

"Imagine it," she said. "Your father has often spoken of heralding a second age of Dragons. Of Westeros becoming the new Valyria, but better. Smarter and stronger. With our marriage and my sister's, Dorne will become a permanent part of the Seven Kingdoms. Can you see it? All of Westeros united by Targaryen blood."

Daeron wanted to protest. He snapped his mouth closed as her words rolled around his head. Coryanne could see the wheels turning. "Do you understand, now? What your duty will be once we are wed? What you must protect?"

He slowly shook his head. The dutiful, pious side of him urged him to admonish her. Mark her and her mother as a traitor. But he could not quiet the whispers in the back of his mind. Dragons everywhere. Daeron's earliest memory was of his father discussing the power of Old Valyria. The power of dragonlords. He recalled the wonder in the king's voice. The vague model of the ancient dragon city in the king's room. Daeron glanced at the eggs once more. All of Westeros...united by Targaryen blood.

Coryanne stared at him expectantly. And after a long, tense silence, Daeron sighed. "I understand."

King's Landing...

Ser Arryk and Ser Rickard opened the double doors to the Small Council meeting room, their white cloaks swishing behind them as they turned abruptly. "Prince Aemond Targaryen," Ser Arryk announced. "And Princess Daella Targaryen."

Queen Alicent sat in the king's chair as her son and stepdaughter entered the room. Their faces were slightly wind-burnt, and their hair a bit wild from flying. The lords swiveled in their seats to greet the prince and princess. Tyland came around from behind them, various scrolls tucked under his arm. He smiled nervously, bowing towards the Queen before taking his seat as Master of Ships. Otto's smile faltered a bit as he studied Tyland's demeanor. He flicked his gaze to the two Targaryens. "I take it Prince Daeron has settled into Sunspear?"

"Yes, the Martells were very welcoming," Aemond said dryly.

Daella bit the inside of her cheek, forcing herself to keep quiet. Tyland cleared his throat, shifting in his seat. "Well, Prince Qoren is certainly...generous. He has chosen to accept the terms Princess Daella has laid out, and he has agreed to lessen his trade taxes."

"That is good news," Lord Beesbury noted.

Alicent sat back in her chair, relaxing her shoulders as she dropped her hands into her lap. "And good that it is done. Now that this border issue with Dorne has been dealt with and House Baratheon properly reprimanded..." she paused to give Daella a stern look "...it's time for you to fulfill your duty to the crown. For both of you."

Aemond and Daella exchanged wary glances. Tyland fidgeted with one of his scrolls. Otto flicked his gaze back and forth between the Master of Ships and his grandson. "Is there something you wish to tell us, Lord Tyland?"

Tyland gave him a nervous smile, side-eyeing the dragonriders. Aemond glanced at Daella who gave him a quick nod. "I understand the Small Council has begun arrangements to betroth us to House Stark and House Lannister," he said. "That will no longer be necessary."

"Has the princess given Dorne more of our dragons?" Lord Jasper asked with a snort, ignoring the glares he was receiving.

Daella stepped closer to Aemond, wrapping her hands around his arm. "The betrothals are no longer necessary...because we are already wed. We have wed."

Everyone's eyes widened. Otto raised his eyebrows in surprise but gave no indication of disapproval. Queen Alicent placed her hands on the table, trying to keep herself from clenching her fists. "You cannot lie your way out of this, Princess."

"We speak the truth, Mother," Aemond said. "Daella and I were wed by a Septon. With witnesses. Lord Tyland can attest to that."

Tyland sighed and picked up one of the scrolls. "The marriage of Prince Aemond Targaryen," he read, "and Princess Daella Targaryen was officiated by Septon Cassan on the sixteenth day of the second month, one-hundred and thirty-four years after the Conquest. Witnessed by Prince Qoren Martell, Princess Alyssa Targaryen, and Lady Syb-"

Alicent jumped to her feet, slamming her hands on the table. "Out! Everyone out! I will speak to the princess alone."

The lords got up, not needing to be told twice. Orwyle aided Lord Beesbury to the door. Aemond lingered, but Daella gave him a reassuring look. He hummed, dubious as he slipped out of her hold and followed Otto and the other lords out. Ser Criston eyed the Queen, silently asking if he needed to stay. Alicent gave him a dismissive nod and the knight exited the room, closing the doors. "Explain yourself, Daella," the Queen said as she walked around the table. "You trick my son into saying vows he doesn't understand, defy me for the hundredth time, and now make us a fool before House Stark and House Lannister."

"I am aware of the consequences of our decision, your grace," Daella said calmly. "But Aemond and I had been betrothed for years. We love each other, so this should come as a surprise."

Alicent scoffed. "As if your feelings are genuine. This is nothing more than sedition. Revenge for reprimanding you accordingly for your near treasonous abuse of power. Why must you fight me in everything? Why must you undermine me at every turn?"

Daella sighed, more annoyed than ashamed by the hurt in her stepmother's voice. "Must I repent further for my admittedly impulsive decision to give Daeron to Dorne? When we last spoke, did I not accept your decree to send me North?"

"False words, I now realize," she said. "I should've forbidden your return to Sunspear. Aemond has always been mindful of his duties. A truly loyal son and proper Prince. He would've done the honorable thing and married the Lannister girl had you not poisoned him against me."

"You think Aemond is so easily manipulated?"

"You are Rhaenyra's sister."

Daella almost laughed. She had a long-standing suspicion of the queen's true feelings, and now they were made plain. Her words cut deeper than Daella expected. "We can stand here and argue endlessly, but it will not change the fact that Aemond and I are married. It was witnessed. It's been consummated. By the laws of gods and men, we are husband and wife."

Alicent slowly shook her head. "House Stark and House Lannister will not forgive this insult."

"Lord Tyland can smooth things over with his brother," Daella said with a shrug. "And Lord Cregan is well aware of my love for Aemond. You forget I spent three years fighting with him. He's quite sympathetic as he married his own late lady wife out of love, not duty."

The Queen clasped her hands together, resisting the urge to react violently. She studied the princess' demeanor closely. "You understand that as Prince Aemond's wife, your place is here, in the Red Keep, attending to your duties as a lady of the court?"

"I do."

Alicent raised an eyebrow. "There will be no more royal progresses. No more flying off to war."

"No fighting, no flying..." Daella nodded "...I understand."

"You will serve at Lady Cassandra's side. Tending to her as one of her many ladies. Assisting her in holding feasts, surveying tourneys, and everything else a proper princess must do."

Daella pursed her lips, swallowing her urge to recoil. "You have no reason to believe my sincerity, but I assure you...my 'rebelliousness' is at an end."

"That remains to be seen." Alicent stepped closer, her dark eyes boring into Daella's violet ones. She lowered her voice as she spoke, her tone as soft as velvet. "Do not forget, Princess, that you do not have the same flimsy shields as your sister. You are not the heir. You are merely a second daughter, and your only value is your ability to provide children for Aemond. Nothing more."

Daella couldn't help but smirk. "There's no need for veiled threats, your grace. I know what's expected of me. You want honor and decency? You want duty and sacrifice? Then that is exactly what you will get."

Sunspear, Dorne...

It was the Hour of the Wolf and the entire palace was fast asleep. Daeron tip-toed down the west stairwell, his silver hair shining in the moonlight. He ducked into the shadows as a servant strolled by, carrying a pail of hot water. Once they disappeared around the corner, Daeron slipped into the hall and hurried the opposite way. The palace was still a maze to him. He had made sure to join Coryanne in her daily morning strolls of the castle to familiarize himself, but in the dark, everything was different. He had nearly missed the meeting point.

Daeron found the cloaked figure waiting beneath a sconce, face hidden by their hood. The prince approached cautiously. "Ser Bryndon?"

Bryndon removed his hood. "Hello, cousin. I trust you weren't followed."

"No." Daeron glanced back over his shoulder for good measure. "Do you bring a message from my uncle?"

"A message from your grandsire, actually." Bryndon moved closer. "You were seen entering the caves outside the city. The same caves rumored to house more than just Starfyre and Tessarion."

Daeron kept his face blank, keeping his thoughts hidden. "As your uncle explained," Bryndon continued, "you are nothing more than a political hostage. A shield to protect Princess Alyssa from the crown's wrath. Your mother fears for your safety, my prince."

"She need not be," he said. "The Martells have been welcoming and honorable."

"Do not let yourself be deceived. Alyssa's children are dragonriders...all know it to be true. But we must have proof of the treachery."

Daeron narrowed his eyes. "What is it you're asking of me, Ser?"

"For the truth, my prince," he said. "You've gone into the caves. You've seen what lies within. So I ask you...are there dragons hiding in the caves? Has Princess Alyssa betrayed her promise to the King?"

Daeron pressed his lips into a tight line as he thought. He recalled Coryanne's words. Do you understand, now? What you must protect? Simultaneously, the image of his mother came to mind. As well as his uncle. The preaching of honor and truth. He sighed, resolved in his decision, and turned to his cousin. "Beyond Starfyre and Tessarion...there are no other dragons in Dorne."


End of Chapter 18

High Valyrian Translations:

Avy jorrāelan. = I love you.