They were very few things she resented about her life: her mother and siblings demise, Robert Baratheon gorging himself atop the Iron Throne, Cersei Lannister and her brood of inbred bastards...and the fact that she still had family out there and she could do nothing to help them. Throughout the years, Rhaenyra had begged her uncle to rescue her aunt from the clutches of her brother, but it would apparently put her in jeopardy and he had vehemently refused. Thus, it meant that it would fall under her own hands to do something about it: she might resent her father, but Daenerys had done nothing to provoke her ire and was a remarkable woman when given the right push. If she was to be wed to Robb one day or another, she knew they would perform a ceremony in the Godswood as was the way of the North in order for their union to be recognized by the Old Gods.
Some part of her yearned for a Valyrian wedding: the practice had been forgotten ever since the first Rhaenyra had married Daemon, which might explain many things about childbirth and the madness that plagued their family. Her ancestor, Maegor, was cruel but no one had called him Mad.
Sometimes, she wondered what Aegon and his sister-wives think about their legacy and the state of the Kingdom he had done so much to work for. How would they have reacted if they knew their bastard half-brother's house would one day rise in rebellion, as justified as it was, to end their Dynasty. Visenya was likely to laugh at the state of things since none of them were descended from the child that grew from her womb, and be disgusted by the way the Targaryen men had treated their sisters, wives and mothers once they were long gone.
The white haired princess did not know when they would marry, but she would do everything in her capacity to rescue Daenerys and bring her - she needed a Valyrian priest to perform it and she would be perfect for the task. Moreover, she would save her from a life of ruin and betrayal, which was why she had spent a long time crafting a bracelet for her to conceal her identity. If she was to pose as one of her ladies in waiting from Dorne, it meant that she could not have the silver hair characteristic of the Targaryens, which proved more difficult than she had imagined. It was only after finding Aegon The Conqueror's crown made of Valyrian Steel in one of the Martell vaults that she decided to use it for her purpose. He might be scandalized of her actions, but it was the only way for her to make sure their House did not completely die out. She did not want to reclaim the Iron Throne, but Dragonstone was theirs by right and as soon as Stannis went on his foolish errand to sit his ass on that ugly chair, she would take it back.
Thinking of the future made her think of Robb - and his almost prudish reaction when he entered her room. Rhaenyra knew he would be flustered, but she was also aware that he had bedded many whores in the brothels available in the North and had not expected this level of bashfulness. Was it because they were to be engaged to one another?
Truly, she did not want a long betrothal: she was four-and-ten, she had many plans for the future (mainly surviving the Wars to come which she would try not to get involved in and end the Night King once and for all - maybe even gain a crown as Queen in the North while she was at it). She had been overjoyed by the way his face and ears had turned red under her scrutiny and how he had looked at her body for a while before regaining his bearings and leaving the room while she was getting ready for the feast.
Rhaenyra was not used to this climate, but there was nothing a few simple warming charms could not fix - she would be lying if she said she was not amused by how her uncle had grumbled under his breath about the snow and the lack of courtesans.
There had been no signed agreement yet and no announcement of their betrothal and even though Lord Stark had confirmed they would be wed, she knew she couldn't hint at it. Since she knew Oberyn and his daughters (her supposed sisters) would wear the orange and red from House Martell, she opted for much of the same. Northerners and especially Lady Catelyn might be a little bit scandalized but she was a Princess of Dorne and she would not let herself be intimidated by people who didn't live in her country. Her mother, Elia, had been forced to conform to the fashion of King's Landing, forced to forsake her culture and sense of identity completely in order to become a Targaryen while the rest looked down on her. There was no doubt about the fact that her grandmother, Lorenza, the former Ruling Princess of Dorne, deeply regretted the match she had made for her daughter once upon a time - eager to see her becoming a Queen, which instead led her to an early demise.
Since she was still a royal, she opted for a golden circlet around her head, two loose chains with suns adorning them if one was looking hard enough. It had belonged to Elia Martell and she wore it with pride, knowing her mother was looking down on her from wherever she was - praying for her well-being and happiness. There was also no doubt in her mind that her accursed Father was swearing down and besmirching her name from the heavens since he had not known about her existence and was disgusted by her refusal to regain the Throne. Since the men in her family had always been quick to dismiss the Targaryen women, she saw no reason to prove them wrong. They had never wanted them on the throne anyway, why would she lose the people she loved and her resources for something so benign? No, she would rather fight tooth and nail to convince the Kingdoms to claim independence from their sovereign - better than bending the knee to a Lannister bastard.
As she opened her chamber's door, she quickly looked at Robb and offered him a seductive smile. She knew she was beautiful, but she had worked hard for her body: tan and slander with swollen breasts and long legs - everything about her was the perfect union of Rhoynar and Valyrian.
"Will you escort me Lord Robb ?," she asked him while closing the door behind her, making sure he had a full view of her exposed back. Compared to what her cousin Arianne might wear, it could even be considered conservative - especially when they spent time at the Water Gardens with the rest of the children. The thought almost made her lose breath, knowing this was going to become a thing of the past, but the matter of apparition usually softened the blow. After all, she could literally move across Westeros in the blink of an eye, which meant that she could still visit her birth family whenever she wished to.
Rhaenyra wondered how other women fared with the separation: how could they bear to tear themselves from their fathers and brothers, their mothers and sisters in order to move elsewhere? Even the prospect of creating her own family did not assuage her musings.
Her future betrothed took a shaking breath, looking almost ready to touch her spine and run his calloused hands through her naked skin. If they weren't almost late for their dinner, she would think he would take her right then and there, not even thinking about the consequences of his actions. But they both remembered what they had seen whilst they were at the Godswood: only one action could derail everything, such as sleeping with Talisa and marrying her - making him lose the Northerners allegiance and provoked the ire of Walder Frey, which lead to the Red Wedding.
Robb shook his head and took her arm in his, positively being a gentleman while he tried not to stare at her from the corner. "It would be my pleasure."
Smiling at his reactions to her body and her beauty, she simply smiled and walked towards the Great Hall where the Sand Snakes, her "Father" and the Starks were waiting for them. The young woman would be lying if she said she was not fascinated by Winterfell and the secrets she might find within - the magic was prominent here and she had never felt such anywhere else in this world. It screamed old - a feeling reminiscent of Hogwarts - her only home before being thrust into this world by forces unknown.
