🤍Two Hearts Of Flame🤍

10 · The Kings Hall

Rhaenyra scavenged her dressers, tossing silk capes and dress linings away. I was seated next to her balcony while a maid tenderly cut my nails, another was standing behind me and undoing the knots in my hair from travel.

"How old are you Fraenairys?" Rhaenyra asked, looking back at me with a puzzled expression, to which I replied, "Twenty and one." Her eyebrows were raised and she shrugged, "I just might have to get one of my mother's dresses for you to wear.."

She trailed off, now lazily sorting through the undergarments. I did not know how her mother died, Daemon kept some parts of his story vague. "I don't understand the need for such a fancy dress," I say to change the subject, "I think pants are quite comfortable."

She lightly laughs, "You dress to match your status, cousin, and we are of the very highest born." She sighs, "Though I do admit, they look rather tempting." She says with a cute smirk and points to my loose wool pants. "Maybe I'll start a fashion statement," I joked, my smile faded as I noticed the maids exchange glances.

A maid entered the room after a light knock, her eyes were drawn to the ground and she carried a large amount of grey fabric, a dress. Rhaenyra smiles and she takes the dress from the maid.

"My mother looked her very best wearing this dress," she says and then holds it up. "I'm sure she was lovely." I respond, giving her a smile. She stares at it for a moment longer and then drapes it over a chair. She takes hold of my hands and pulls me to my feet, "let's get you out of these rags now."

·-•-·

I was completely stiff backed as my cousin guided me down the hall, she had to push me along to get my feet to move. The doors to the great hall were so far down the corridor, but they felt so close.

Her maids had left us, and Daemon was out of sight ever since he used that silver tongue of his to convince me to keep Draco and Sapphira with his blood wyrm. The sun was setting in the distance, the torches were lit and an orange glow guided us to the great hall doors.

Rhaenyra put on a smile and turned me to face her, "Be calm, you're only meeting your cousin." She says and I laugh lightly, "My cousin is the king." I reply and she rolls her eyes. "Big deal, he's just some old man." She whispers and a smile grows on my face.

She clasps her hand in mine and we continue our journey to the door. "Stay by my side, and do as I do." She instructs and I nod my head. The guards at the door reached forward and pulled them open. The servants, guards and the king's council knew all about my arrival, though they did not know of my lineage.

A large throne of swords sat at the end of the hall, it was massive, surrounded by other swords melted to the ground, the swords of those the past kings have conquered.

Rhaenyra began to walk slightly quicker down the stone floor, her eyes trained on the silver haired, crown wearing, man on the throne. Her father. He watched me curiously, eyebrows slightly narrowed. I looked at the places next to the throne, and other silver haired people watched me with puzzled expressions.

Daemon was standing next to a woman with the same hair as him, but it was pulled up high at the back of her head with strands that fell down her back. Daemon nodded his head to her slightly, suggesting that this was Rhaenys, my mother.

Rhaenyra came to a stop, and I mirrored her. She curtsied, and I did the same. "Father, this is Fraenairys." She speaks, he tilts his chin up and examines my clothes, he must notice his previous wife's dress on me. I bow my head down, and wait for his words.

"Tell me of your lineage, Fraenairys." He speaks loudly, my eyes flick to the woman next to Daemon, I swallow thickly and prepare myself for the reactions of the people in the room.

"I was raised by King Jaehaerys bastard daughter Dauren Deuland in the North, I came into her possession when my mother slept with her personal guard and chose to adopt me out." I say, keeping my eyes on the throne though I can see Rhaenys' hand fly to her chest.

He raised his eyebrows and looked around at the others, his eyes paused on princess Rhaenys' expression. "Who should like to confess." He asks with a smile, amused at the spectacle. My eyes flicked to her, and he noticed.

"Might I suggest we discuss the matter in a more private setting?" A man asks, he wore a pin on his tunic that was the shape of a pointed hand. King Viserys doesn't look at him, he just waves his hand toward the older man.

"The child is mine." Rhaenys says suddenly after a period of silence. I narrow my eyebrows, "I am not a child." I say and she shuts her mouth in a tight lipped expression, sadness was filled in her eyes as she stared at me.

Medium Chapter 887 w/c

Sorry this was kind of rushed, been slightly busy the last few days!