( Note: Sorry for the slow updates. Life just became more busy and hectic due to classes starting–along with working multiple jobs–, but I'm still writing and will produce chapters as fast as I can. Thank you for your patience.)
Rhaenyra crumpled up the fresh letter from Lord Hobert Hightower that'd been delivered to her by raven that morning. She had skipped her breakfast and waited until the afternoon before scanning the contents of the thin scroll. She barely skimmed half the message before throwing it into her fireplace. It consisted of House Hightower congratulating her and Prince Aegon's engagement, along with generous offers of funding an extravagant wedding for the two. To Rhaenyra it was only salt to her ailing wounds (and pride).
I should've chosen Jason Lannister, she mentally huffed when sinking further and further into regret. He's an arrogant cunt, but he at least would've given me children, securing my claim. But much like her father, she was only deluding herself. Progeny or not, it was Aegon who mattered the most to the Realm.
She sat at her small table, drumming on its smooth surface with her freshly cleaned and polished nails. In front of her was a blank slip of paper, accompanied by a quill pen, dipped in ink and ready to write. She wished to reach out to her former husband, Laenor. He and Laena were the only ones she could truly vent to and disclose her most hidden feelings and secrets. The three of them had shared deep trust in each other ever since childhood. It was one of many reasons as to why Laenor was a perfect partner for her. But his one negative aspect overshadowed all the good. And for that their marriage had been ruined.
Her restless hand continuously fidgeted with the quill; picking it up and positioning it to write, only to surrender it back on the table. Rhaenyra had so much to say, but didn't know how or where to start. She was originally going to begin with the egregious news of how she was now permanently tied to her younger brother.
Old resentment against all of her male half-siblings began to resurface. And then she began to resent her father for remarrying all those years ago. If she'd been the only heir, the Kingdom just may've been more accepting towards her claim to the throne.
The resentment was only spreading toward the people of the Realm. The Targaryens were above Westeros customs and its oppressive traditions, the Conqueror(s) made that veritably clear over a century ago. And that very same message was silently reiterated every time her family continued practicing their Valyrian customs of betrothing brother and sister together to keep the dragon blood pure.
Rhaenyra physically shuddered when this reminded her that she'd be forced to carry on with these 'royal' customs herself. Either way, she was well within her right to sit the Iron Throne, wasn't she? She was sure that her ancestral home of Old Valyria, the greatest and most powerful dynasty to ever exist in the world, had its share of female rulers.
Gods, if only my Uncle were here . . . The Princess's heart palpitated furiously. Daemon Targaryen, the Rogue Prince. The man Rhaenyra truly wished to marry years ago when she was still a girl of 5 and 10. To this current day she still reminisced in the rich memory of the forbidden Night the two shared together. Daemon had shown her the castle secrets and how to sneak out. She had disguised herself as a boy in rags, and her Uncle led her away into the depraved depths of King's Landing. He brought her into a whorehouse, taught her how to pleasure a man, and then took her maidenhead.
Daemon would later tell the Princess himself that he would take her as his wife, despite already being wed. The Conqueror had two wives, after all. But his brother, the King (and Rhaenyra's father), disallowed it before banishing him from King's Landing.
It would've truly settled the succession, Rhaenyra told herself and felt convinced. Daemon was already in line for the Throne before she was made the Heir. He was above Aegon and all of Alicent's sons in every aspect. Prince Daemon would agree with me.
It was true that she and her dangerous Uncle shared the same passions of flexing the true power of their unmatched House.
He'd strike down all those who would even oppose me, all the conspiracies. The Lannisters, the Hightowers . . . The flames inside her raved as she gazed into her lit fire pit and mulled over the old threats and fears of every Lord breaking their oath to her.
*knock knock*
Rhaenyra's reaction was delayed when glancing at her chamber doors. Whoever it was, she had the mind to turn them away. "Come," she instead bid.
The door opened rather quickly, bringing in an eager Prince. Aegon's armor of confidence split the second their lavender eyes locked, his mouth failing him.
Oh, the Princess also failed to greet when recognizing her betrothed. She gripped her quill pen again, though it was to quell her rising stress.
"Sister," Aegon addressed carefully as his eyes were pulled to the floors in submission.
"Brother," Rhaenyra reciprocated calmly.
"I just came to see how you were doing . . ." Aegon eventually explained. A mild deja vu struck the Princess as she watched at how weak and intimidated her brother was behaving. Her heart softened a little, but the drops of resentment hadn't evaporated completely.
"I've had better mornings." Rhaenyra admitted with a half-smirk before leaning back in her chair and taking a silent deep breath. More silence dominated the room, causing discomfort in both the Prince and Princess.
"I didn't see you at breakfast." Aegon mentioned.
"I didn't have much of an appetite." Rhaenyra answered before she rose. Aegon watched the lace of his sister's red and black dress flow gracefully with her movements as she put away her writing utensils.
The Prince struggled to dig up subjects for small talk. So badly he wanted to connect with her, but he was well-aware of how upset she was with this whole arrangement. He felt equal parts guilty and remorseful. His very existence was the cause of all this. He knew Rhaenyra didn't hate him, not after their last encounter, but he also knew that she wasn't entirely fond of him either. And he wanted her to be.
"I'm sorry." Aegon suddenly muttered. Rhaenyra caught it.
"'Sorry'?" she repeated in confusion.
"That it has to be me. I'm sorry you weren't able to...remain happy on Dragonstone with Cousin Laenor."
The apology felt raw and unfamiliar. Such a thing was foreign to the Prince. He had probably never done this in his life. But he meant every word of it. Rhaenyra was still while pondering his words before she surprisingly smiled with a single quiet laugh.
"I don't know if I can say I was 'happy', but it was...liberating, I must admit." she told him.
"Are you happy here?" Aegon randomly questioned. Rhaenyra nervously stroked her laced arm with her other hand, stuck in contemplation. She turned away from her brother while deciding on an answer, Aegon taking careful notice in her slender, curved back.
"No." she truthfully revealed. This much wasn't a surprise to Aegon, but it was still disappointing. He boldly stepped closer to his sister and hesitantly wrapped his arms around her in an affectionate embrace. He was risking an angry outburst, but he didn't care. Much to his relief, Rhaenyra didn't deny him, but she also didn't return the affection.
"Why not?" he softly asked her. He rested his chin on her bare shoulder and caught a whiff of her heavenly perfume, igniting his senses.
Aegon was practically fourteen years-old and was nearly caught up to his older sister in terms of height. He was growing fast, but he still didn't seem to possess the body and features of a true man yet.
The Princess dug her nails into her arm, almost mangling her delicate porcelain skin. She fought the urge to shove her brother away and banish him from her chambers. "I can't trust anyone here." she found herself confiding to him.
"You can trust me." Aegon assured her in a doting voice. His courage took him to venture closer to the vicinity of her exposed neck. His embrace tightened as he boldly planted a lone kiss on the area where shoulder met neck, and held it for longer than a normal sibling would.
Rhaenyra wanted to believe his words, but she honestly couldn't. She couldn't even tell if he was genuinely being vulnerable with her or if this was another premeditated "visit" set up by Ser Otto.
Aegon's skinny fingers traveled upward from his sister's midsection by the inch until the Princess could tolerate no more. "You're dismissed." she ordered in a cold voice before forcefully pulling away from him. Aegon never protested. He left without any more words. He was frustrated, but not angry. He'd spend the rest of the afternoon taking it out inside his own chambers.