Sorry about the gap in updating. See, I've come up with a schedule – after I finish this story, the priority is Life is Strange: Corvus Lupus, and then I'll work on the next instalment of this.

Also, I'm going to re-start Assassin's Creed: Unite sometime soon, so if you're interested ping me a message.

Delyth Tyrell – the Red Keep, King's Landing, the Crownlands

"…And we'll need pigeon pie – just like the one Visenya made for Viserys!" I smiled. Marrying a Prince… a fine-looking Prince like Aeron, at that. I could imagine Kathryn Redwyne squirming at the idea. She always thought she was so pretty – pursued by Cedrick Hightower and Lancion Florent alike. I couldn't wait for her to see me in my dress…

"Visenya didn't make the cake." Aeron pulled at the cuffs of his shirt.

"Well, she ordered it," I giggled, "anyway, will we be staying in King's Landing?"

"Yes, I believe so. Rylon will want me to serve on the Small Council, no doubt. Sitting at the leg of the table, savouring the scraps…" He sighed bitterly, kicking a pebble off of the battlements and into the dark water of Blackwater Bay below.

"Aeron?"

"Nothing," he shook his head, "I suppose we'll stay here for a few years yet before we travel to Highgarden..." As he spoke, I realized – as Princess, I could arrange the marriages of the other girls! Marry off Kathryn to some toad fifth-born…

"Ooh!" I tugged on his arm, "Who can I betroth Lusia to?"

"Lusia?" He furrowed his brow in confusion.

"Aeron, I told you," I groaned, "Lusia is my handmaiden back in Highgarden."

"Oh… Delyth, it's usually the father who handles the arrangements for his daughter…"

"But, who cares? I'll be a princess!"

"Princes and Princesses don't have power." Aeron gritted his teeth, "Only the trueborn Targaryens…"

"Who cares about them? The only nice ones are Viserys and Visenya…" I paused, as Aeron raised an eyebrow, "I'm talking about the trueborn. Besides," I wrapped my arms around his, holding him close, "I just want my match first."

Aeron let out a chuckle, "Alright, little flower, we'll betroth your friend, Lusia."

"And Gabielle?"

"Yes, Gabielle too…" Aeron nodded, "Maybe even Ashriel as well."

"Ashriel?" I asked, removing my arm from his.

"Yes. She's to be my sister, I should do my part for her." Aeron stated.

"Yes, but…" I tried to find an excuse. I loved Ashriel, with all my heart, and I wanted her to be happy, but she didn't deserve a match like I did. It was only fair – I was a good daughter, and I always did what father said. Ashriel, on the other hand, was more rebellious, and raised our father's ire.

"But?" Aeron leant against the ramparts.

"But not a Great House." I insisted. "And, somewhere in the Reach, so she can visit!"

"I'll make a suggestion to your father." Aeron nodded. "Unless, of course, he dies before he can make the match…" There was something off-putting about how casually Aeron mused about this. He didn't seem to be upset or scared – he simply just pondered aloud. I felt terrified at the idea of my father dying, leaving mother alone. It seemed as though, for some reason, Ashriel would never be able to return home should that happen…

It must have been clear what I was feeling from my face, because Aeron broke into a laugh, "Don't fret. I would never dream of doing something like that to your father. He's been nothing but respectful and lordly towards me." With each word, I felt a wave of reassurance wash over me. "The world is a cruel place, and everyone dies before they plan to, but I'd not think to do that to your father."

I looked up at the butterfly that fluttered it's wings, scattering across the air, "But would you do that to someone else?" I looked back to Aeron, whose eyes were locked on mine, his lip curling.

"Now you're learning to think the right way."

Visenya Targaryen – Rhaenys' Hill, King's Landing, the Crownlands

I waved to the smallfolk, bidding them goodbye. Viserys and Haylise did the same, beside me. They walked arm-in-arm, Viserys adorning his usual scarlet and ebony garb, though Haylise still wore golden antlers that wrapped around her waist with a golden dragon. I couldn't help but smile at this – she was a woman I welcomed into the family. To be frank, I found the whole marriage of the two of them disheartening; Viserys was kind-hearted, and I knew him. If we had wed like we were originally arranged to, I would have rested happy knowing we'd be together on Dragonstone, instead of being sent off somewhere to marry.

I wondered where Rylon would send me. I'd heard that Ryleigh Baratheon was to wed a Stark girl, so I wouldn't be sent off to the Stormlands. The match between Aeron and Delyth meant I wouldn't marry some handsome fool from the Reach either. That left the Westerlands, the Riverlands, the Vale and the North. Well, I wouldn't be married to a simple-minded Northerner, and I hated fish. The Westerlands, at least, was the richest region. And the Vale was full of chivalrous knights – men after Viserys' own heart. Yes, I suppose they would do well.

"Do you have to go, Visenya?" Haylise asked me. "I had hoped to you would stay longer…"

"I'm sure I'll be back before long," I held out a hand, watching Sunfyre descend from the clouds, "Viserys made need saving when mother starts asking where her grandchildren are."

"She seemed lovely."

"That's because you didn't grow up with her." I sniggered and pointed at Viserys, "Do you remember how she raved when she found out we'd stolen the jam from the kitchens?"

"Gods, she was livid," Viserys told his wife, "the whole thing wasn't even my idea."

"Of course, noble Viserys always led astray by his devilish sister… Besides," I sighed, "Aeron's wedding will be soon. And I would never miss that."

"Of course… can you imagine Aeron with a wife?"

"She seems to love the finery as much as he does," I rolled my eyes, "I couldn't have dreamt up a better wife for him." Truth be told, Delyth Tyrell was the perfect match for him. Just as she was now to inherit instead of her older sister, Aeron was in the line of succession where he shouldn't have been. Aeron was a charming man, and had never shown me any contempt. In fact, we had been closer than I had been to Draegor. And whereas Laena turned arrogant and hot-tempered, Aeron always stayed composed. Though there was something about him. Something bubbling below the surface. And that was because, regardless of what our father had said, he was still a bastard. He wasn't a Targaryen. Not really. He never could be.

"Rylon will be securing your match soon," Viserys stated, "I think he wants to get it out of the way before he gets too old."

"True… and sadly, Draegor's crowning will be soon." I sighed. Viserys bowed his head as well. We didn't have the same memories as our siblings about our parents. True, Laena and I had been treasured by our mother. But, as I grew older, I began to notice other things. Like, how father would laugh and smile more around Aeron than Draegor or Viserys. Or, how mother wouldn't be able to smile around Laena after the maid had set fire to her bed. Then, Draegor was blinded, and everyone suddenly stopped being a family. Everyone but Viserys. "Haylise, sister, it was lovely to meet you," I embraced her, "and I shall see you soon. I'm sure Viserys will bring you to Dragonstone…"

"I'd like nothing more." Haylise embraced me back before pulling backwards into a polite curtsy. She may have been Haylise the Ruined, but there was no denying how delightful the girl was.

"Viserys, visit often and stay well." I embraced him as well.

"You too, sister." He hugged me tightly.

Sunfyre landed just in front of my hand, stamping his feet onto the grass and let out a screech. I noticed Haylise clamp onto Viserys' arm. She'd learn in time. After all, she had her own dragon now.

Lyra Lannister – the Red Keep, King's Landing, the Crownlands

Gods, Delyth Tyrell irritated me. It was worse than being dim-witted and dull, she was actually grating. With her shrill shrieks and squeals. What use was a little girl like that? She'd probably just pop out a few sprogs and obey her husband in all matters. That wasn't the life I'd live. No, someday, I'd find a sword, and I'd only marry a man who would spar with me.

People often said swords were for men, and poison was for women. Our weapons ranged from our tears to the one between our legs. Me? I'd happily choose the sword, and show them just how skilled a woman could be with a blade.

I watched Delyth prance about with Aeron. He was a fool as well. A peacock, parading himself around like a prize. Gods, he made my blood boil… He reminded me of my father in many ways; He walked like the roads were paved for him, and talked with such light-hearted laughter that you'd think there were no deep thoughts in his head. He was putting it on – he must have been. How could anyone remain that cavalier and joyful when they're eternally shit on by their family?

I resisted the urge to retch at the two of them, and quickly ducked behind a hedge. I was about to creep away from the gardens, and back into the keep, only I saw two figures at the end of the nearest corridor. One wore a golden cloak of chainmail – the City Watch, clearly. The other man he spoke to bore some familiarity; red hair, big build… and the armour of the Kingsguard. Ser Mikal Drake, I remembered. He handed him a purse – one that looked to be bursting with gold dragons. I'd grown up in Casterly Rock – I knew a bribe when I saw one. But why was a Knight of the Kingsguard paying a goldcloak?

As Ser Mikal turned to look towards me, I quickly moved away, going to look over the Blackwater Bay. Before I could check to see if I was being followed, a screech was heard overhead as a dragon, emerald and green scales glimmering in the sun, plunged down suddenly towards the water, it's beating wings splashing into the water.

"Easy, My Lady." I turned around to see one of the silver-armoured Kingsguard there. A chestnut beard, and dark eyes that peeked out under his helm. He rested a hand on the hilt of a Greatsword, which had a golden star painted onto the pommel.

"What?"

"The dragons," He gestured with a hand, "they're even-tempered enough… as long as you keep your distance."

I scoffed. What would he know about dragons? I mean, true, he lived in King's Landing. And he was a Kingsguard. But what would he know? "Who are you?"

The man removed his helm, revealing a much younger face than I'd expected. Dark hair cropped short and darker skin. He was a Dornishman. I immediately remembered the jokes that the house guards of Storm's End told about Dornishmen… Even now, I couldn't look at him without thinking about shaved goats and olive oil. "I am Ser Richard Dayne."

"Dayne?" I asked, dropping my smile from the jokes I had been told. Instead, I remembered the long histories of Dayne swordsmen. The Sword of the Morning. The best in the world, I'd heard. No-one could stop them. Different to the brash wolves in the North and elegant water-dancing Braavosi. Maester Ayric at Storm's End had told me that they embodied their sigil; a sword crossed with a falling star. As sure as the star falls, so will their sword, Dawn, fall upon you. And all the weight and fury of the star shall be unleashed… I have to say, I hadn't had that feeling since I'd saw Ser Aran's son bathing…

"I know," Ser Richard moved past me to gaze over the horizon, "a Dornishman in King's Landing is a rare sight."

"To say the least." I nodded, "How did that come to pass?"

"Well, I presume you're familiar with my family's history?"

"The Sword of the Morning?"

"Yes, well, my father is the current Sword of the Morning. And, I'm the fourth-born," he laughed, "I have two older brothers to compete with."

"So, you came here to patrol the gardens?" I raised an eyebrow. "To be a sentry?"

"A glorified sentry." He grinned. "Well, I'd either be fighting Stormlanders and Reachmen, fighting my countrymen, or standing guard in gardens."

"You don't enjoy battle?" I scoffed.

"I can't say I've ever truly been in battle…"

"And you want to be the Sword of Morning?"

"The greatest swordsmen have been felled by a stray arrow or a charging mare." He turned to me, "I'm not rushing towards an early grave. When I die, I want it to be protecting people I know. Not fighting for people I don't."

"Well," I took a breath to steady myself, "I can't argue with that logic." I could feel the burning in my cheeks and… other areas. "Ser Richard-"

"Lady Lyra!" I turned around to see a man wrapped in scarlet approach me, clutching a scroll.

"What?" I put a hand on my hip, hissing at him. Well, he interrupted me and Ser Richard.

"A- a letter for you, My Lady." He held out the scroll tentatively and bowed his head. I took it and shooed him away, reading the letter.

"Good news, My Lady?"

"No… no the opposite…" I re-read the letter, just to make sure I hadn't misread it. No, my father was as concise as ever. The cock. I crumpled up the letter and threw it on the floor.

"My Lady?"

"Apparently, my oaf of a father has made an arrangement for me. A marriage."

"I pity the man…" I heard Ser Richard mutter with a grin, "Who is he?"

Well… there's a lot of secrecy in this chapter, that's for sure. The next chapter will be somewhat short, since it's primarily just to show where things are moving. It will be the last time we visit the Starks and their bannermen in this instalment. The next chapter is called 'A Pack of Wolves'.

Please leave a review saying what you thought. Also, let me know who your favourite characters are. Only four more chapters left… big things are in the foreseeable future. It's going to get so Game-of-Thrones-y.