The warm crackling of the fire enveloped Rhiannon in a soothing embrace as she surveyed her new chambers. The same chamber that once belonged to her mother. Her fingertips delicately traced the polished surface of the sturdy desk nestled by the tall, arched windows, each touch stirring her curiosity about the countless history these walls had witnessed over the years. A soft chuckle escaped her lips as she glided toward the bed, allowing her fingers to dance lightly over the plush blankets, feeling the comforting texture beneath her touch. With a deep breath and a resigned huff, she finally took in the reality of her new room.
Suddenly, a sharp knock echoed through the room, breaking the silence. Rhiannon straightened her posture, a blend of anticipation and curiosity coursing through her as she walked toward the center of the room, inviting whoever stood outside to enter. Vanesha stepped in, followed by two other lady's maids, carefully cradling a stunning green dress.
Rhiannon paused, her eyes watching intensely as the maids gracefully hung the garment on the dressing screen before they retreated.
"Princess—"
"Rhiannon," she interjected firmly, her voice steady, prompting Vanesha to nod with a somewhat uncertain smile.
"Rhiannon, the Queen has sent a dress for you to wear to the feast," Vanesha announced, her voice softer now. Rhiannon stepped forward, her fingers brushing against the luxurious fabric, appreciating its smoothness. She couldn't help but admit the dress was indeed breathtaking, adorned with rich shades of emerald that seemed to capture and reflect the light in dazzling waves.
"The color is absolutely wrong. I'll choose something else," Rhiannon declared, her voice flat without a care as she swiftly turned on her heel and made her way to the desk. The vibrant green, the signature hue of House Hightower, she would sooner set it ablaze than adorn herself with it.
Vanesha stood hesitantly by the door, her uncertainty palpable as she watched Rhiannon settle into the chair, quill in hand.
"Prin—I mean Rhiannon?" Vanesha ventured, her voice faltering as she struggled to find her place in this moment. Rhiannon responded with a thoughtful hum, her attention absorbed in the task at hand as she began crafting a letter to her mother, detailing her safe arrival. The soft scratching of the quill filled the room.
"What shall I tell the Queen?" Vanesha asked softly, her voice barely a whisper as she shifted uneasily on her feet. Rhiannon, exuding confidence, met her gaze and flashed a charming smile. "Tell her nothing; I shall take care of it." Vanesha's lips curled into an uncertain smile as she gently bowed her head before her.
"Is there anything else you need?" Vanesha inquired, her brow slightly furrowed as Rhiannon set down her pen, propping her chin on her hand in thought.
"Is it possible to have a bath after the feast?" Rhiannon asked, a dreamy look crossing her face at the thought of sinking into a warm tub, the water enveloping her in comfort. Vanesha nodded earnestly, her eyes brightening with the prospect.
"I'll make sure it's all ready for you while you're at the feast," she replied, her voice filled with genuine enthusiasm.
Rhiannon expressed her gratitude with a warm smile, and as Vanesha stepped out, the room fell silent once again, leaving Rhiannon to her thoughts.
Rhiannon glided through the dimly lit halls of the keep, her red and black gown clinging to her form, emphasizing her slender silhouette and delicately framing the curve of her collarbone as the fabric cascaded gracefully around her shoulders. Two guards trailed closely behind her, their presence unnervingly silent.
When she first pushed open the heavy doors of her chambers, her heart raced at the unexpected but noticeable escort. The guards exchanged only subtle nods of acknowledgment, yet each fleeting glance sent a chill racing down Rhiannon's spine. Vanesha had reassured her of their purpose, but a gnawing instinct whispered that she was being confined rather than protected.
Rhiannon couldn't shake off the question swirling in her mind: why had Alicent and Otto summoned her here? Her grandsire, the king, seemed lost in the milk of the poppy, leading her to believe that this gathering wasn't entirely under his purview. She remained on high alert as the two guards stationed at the entrance to the feast's hall swung the heavy doors open, revealing a scene that overwhelmed her senses.
Before her stretched a long, elegantly adorned table, elevated above the rows of square tables occupied by numerous lords and their families. The table was adorned with golden candelabras, each holding a flickering flame that cast a warm glow over the feast. Their curious gazes lingered on her as she stepped inside, many rising from their seats, a subtle murmuring spreading through the hall like ripples on water.
As Rhiannon moved forward, her skin prickled under the weight of their stares, a mix of intrigue and judgment that followed her. She made her way toward the elevated table at the front, where the king sat beaming, an almost childlike joy lighting up his features. To his left, Otto sat poised and calculating, with an empty chair beside him. Aemond occupied the space next to the empty seat, his gaze fixed on her with an intensity that made her feel like prey being watched.
On the king's right sat Alicent, her presence radiant yet sharp, with another empty chair beside her. And next to the empty chair was Helaena, whose gentle demeanor provided a stark contrast to the tension in the air.
The atmosphere was thick with unspoken words, and Rhiannon braced herself as she approached. Once she reached the table, Rhiannon gracefully curtsied before the king and queen. As she lowered herself, her eyes caught the sight of Alicent's tight jaw, a subtle sign of disapproval as she scrutinized Rhiannon's dress.
"Thank you for this gracious feast, my king and queen," Rhiannon remarked with a warm smile as she rose. Viserys beamed back at her, his face filled with genuine warmth, and expressed his gratitude for her presence. He gestured toward the empty seat between Alicent and Helaena, a welcoming invitation that she eagerly accepted. As she settled into her chair, the hall erupted into lively conversation, the air thick with a symphony of laughter and chatter while soft music began to weave its way through the atmosphere.
Alicent turned toward Rhiannon, her gaze sweeping over the young woman's features with a mixture of something Rhiannon couldn't quite place.
"For a moment, I could have sworn I saw your mother standing before me," she remarked, her tone vague enough to leave Rhiannon questioning whether it was meant as an insult or a compliment.
"Thank you, my queen," Rhiannon said. Alicent let out a soft hum, her attention drifting as she reached for her goblet of wine. As the queen's focus shifted away, Rhiannon quickly turned her attention to Helaena, whose eyes sparkled with warmth.
"You're married?" Rhiannon asked, her eyebrows arching in surprise as their conversation veered into unfamiliar territory. Helaena nodded shyly, her gaze dropping to her half-empty glass of water. "Two children as well," she mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper as she glanced at Rhiannon.
A wide smile spread across Rhiannon's face, genuine delight shining in her eyes. She immediately congratulated Helaena, expressing how much she would love to meet her children. Helaena nodded, a faint blush creeping to her cheeks at the compliments.
Rhiannon found herself intrigued by Helaena's life. She learned that Helaena was wed to a lord of House Hightower, renowned for his brilliance in warfare and strategy. Yet, despite her husband's honors, Rhiannon couldn't shake the feeling that Helaena's marriage lacked warmth. It seemed more a duty than an affectionate partnership, with her husband often absent, gallivanting off to who knows where.
Rhiannon reached for her water as she scanned the crowd of lords, taking note of everyone there. As she brought the glass to her lips, she felt her breath hitch. Making his way through the crowd was, no doubt, Aegon. His wavy hair was shorter than the last time she saw him. She would know that unamused expression anywhere, not to mention the glass of half-empty wine in his hand.
"Somethings never change, I see," she mumbled as she watched him down his glass easily before reaching for another. She glanced up at Alicent, who conversed with the king and Otto. Rhiannon wondered if the betrothal was still valid. Even her mother didn't know, but if Rhiannon had to guess, she figured Alicent was more against it than ever. 'Not that I am complaining,' Rhiannon thought as she returned her gaze to Aegon only to find him staring straight at her.
Aegon watched intently as Rhiannon's mouth fell slightly open, a sign of surprise and vulnerability that deepened the allure of the moment. Her cheeks flushed a delicate shade of crimson, adding warmth to her complexion. He lifted his glass to his lips, his gaze sweeping over her transformed appearance. The youthful innocence that once defined her was now replaced by striking high cheekbones that framed her face beautifully. Her freckles, delicate and scattered like freckles of sunlight across her nose, remained a charming reminder of her childhood. Aegon's eyes trailed downward, captivated by every subtle detail as he absorbed the enchanting sight before him. She had surely grown, transforming in ways that left him momentarily speechless. Lifting his gaze to meet hers again, he couldn't help but notice the way her hair cascaded in soft curls around her shoulders. Her eyes, shimmering with a captivating depth, held a warmth that enveloped him. He had to admit, she was truly breathtaking—perhaps the most beautiful woman he had ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on, and he laid on many.
Aegon's face lit up with a wide grin as he raised his glass in a toast towards Rhiannon as he took a hearty sip. He couldn't help but notice the soft, melodious chuckle that escaped her lips. As she lifted her glass in return, he felt a thrill of excitement; it was an unspoken invitation. With a purposeful stride, he made his way toward her, completely unaware of the curious gazes that followed his every move. Alicent glanced nervously at her father, caught in a moment of uncertainty, but Otto merely raised his hand, a subtle gesture that urged her to stand back and let the scene play out.
Rhiannon's heart raced like a wild bird trapped in a cage as Aegon approached, an unsettling thrill coursing through her veins. Why was her body responding in such a primal way? Before she could unravel the tangled threads of her being, Aegon stood before her, his posture slightly hunched as he lowered his head, yet his piercing gaze held hers captive.
"I'm so glad you're feeling better, uncle," Rhiannon said coolly, a practiced calm cloaking her true feelings as she fought to maintain her composure. A hint of confusion flickered across Aegon's face, while Alicent observed them both with intensity, her eyes urging him to choose his words carefully.
"Feeling much better now," he replied, his voice smooth and velvety, wrapping around the words like a fine silk fabric. Rhiannon leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table, intentionally presenting herself to Aegon, who looked at her as if she were the only source of life in a barren desert.
"I'm so glad to hear that," she responded, her voice soft yet inviting, while Aegon's gaze remained captivated by her lips. A mischievous smirk danced across his face as he leaned forward, resting his palms on the polished surface of the table, casting a shadow over her sitting form. "How about I take you on a tour of the keep tomorrow? It could help revive some of your memories and ensure you don't get lost," he offered, his tone infused with an undercurrent of desire. As Rhianon gracefully rose to her feet, Aegon's eyes followed her every movement.
Rhiannon smiled sweetly, an innocent smile as she picked up on his tone. "Sadly uncle, i have plans with Helaena. Maybe some other time." She spoke as she touched Helaena softly on the shoulder, telling her she was taking her leave and that she would see her tomorrow.
Aegon nodded pensively as he observed Rhiannon bidding her farewells, her figure elegantly weaving through the throng of guests in the grand hall.
"Some other time then," Aegon called out. Rhiannon turned slightly, a playful smile dancing on her lips, before she replied with a casual, "Perhaps," her tone laced with flirtation as she continued her exit.
Aegon hummed thoughtfully, his gaze lingering on her retreating figure, the fabric of her gown swirling gently with each graceful step. He lifted his glass of wine once more, savoring the rich, velvety liquid as he took a deep sip. His eyes flicked toward his father, who without a doubt would make sure the marriage would indeed proceed as intended. Not that Aegon was complaining; the prospect held a certain allure that he found hard to resist.