" ─ they say that targaryens are closer to gods than to man...
but they only say that because of our dragons, without them,
we're just like everyone else. ─ "
Daenys Targaryen was the second daughter to the King Viserys...
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The halls of the Red Keep are bustling with handmaidens, Lords and knights alike as they go to their respective stations and occupy their rightful duties. As usual, a quiet chatter fills each hallway as people make haste. But when the Sun reaches its peak, the crowd instinctively split themselves in two as a figure with a head of white darted through the long halls, her locks flying behind her and showcasing her bright smile to the Realm. In her hands, she clutches the ends of her blossom pink dress to ensure she doesn't trip on her way to her destination.
It had not been an unusual sight for the people of the Keep to see the young Princess sprinting as fast as she could to reach her mother's chambers. The whole castle had memorized her routine, and as it reached midday, they knew they would catch the sight of a rushing Princess. But today it seemed she was late.
Following after her at a safer pace was her Sworn Knight, Ser Quince, who had a head of messy blonde hair and a matching scruff at the tip of his chin. The Princess would like to think the two of them were friends, but with their age gap of almost Ten and One years and different stations, people would find it hard to believe how a Princess and a Knight could be friends.
"Perhaps the Princess would like to slow down to avoid getting hurt?"
Each day the same question is asked. And each day, the request is denied.
"Perhaps not, Ser! Now, please, keep haste!"
As they began nearing the doors to her mother's chambers, the Princess sets off in a faster sprint, bursts of giggles leaving her lips as the sound of a huffing and puffing Ser Quince matched her in pace.
Slamming open, the doors had alerted all those in the chamber to move their attention to the new entry with apprehension. But at the sight of the frequent visitor, they all breathed a sigh of relief.
With a gasp for breathe, Daenys reveals a teethy grin as she happily greets the exhausted and sweating woman resting on her bed. Making her way towards her, the Princess gives a greeting to those she passes. Ser Quince, giving a nod to his Queen, stands outside of the chambers and takes position in front of the doors.
