ᵉⁿᵍˡⁱˢʰ vortex [Daemon Targaryen]

13

The tournament was hardly over when the news spread that Queen Aemma had died in childbirth and that the child, a boy, had also died shortly after Visery's wife.

Not even a day ago, Keynna had told Daemon not to worry, because it was not certain whether the child would survive. Now it was dead. Optimal looked different. If she had known that this would actually happen, she would not have said it. Certainly not, no matter what people thought of her. Keeping her mouth shut was not always easy and certainly not simple, yet there were moments when it was appropriate, from a human perspective alone.

"A man's undoing is always a woman," Keynna looked uncomprehendingly to Roran beside her as they were both just outside the inn, "That which Ser Bolton said to you and you dismissed with a smile. You may not be a boy, but if you do it right, a man, will fall for you, that this one will do anything to make you happy or you ask of him. May I ask what you think of him?"

"Seems all right. It takes a little longer to be able to judge someone," the first impression doesn't say much though, so what should Keynna say much about the man, "But please don't get the idea to tell my father about him, just because there was once a man I exchanged a few words with, it doesn't immediately mean that this one could be a possible husband. My father does not need to get this idea, otherwise he will get the idea to arrange something. I don't know the man, so I won't marry a stranger, besides, maybe Ser Bolton is already married. Either way, it would be most awkward if...."

"He wore no ring," Keynna was interrupted by Roran, "Neither on his right, nor left hand, did he wear a wedding ring."

"Neither did Daemon," Keynna replied unimpressed, closing her eyes in the wake of those words, knowing full well where this was going now that she had once again, done what she always did, which was to simply say things, "Let it go, all right?"

"Whatever you say," Roran said, looking to Keynna and seeing the blonde biting her lower lip and letting out a snort, "Whatever you say."

The subject of Daemon Targaryen was over with the day they left anyway. Once it was back to Casterly Rock, there was no need to say another word about the prince, for then, there were some eight hundred miles between them.

//////////

Advertising on your own behalf/Self-promotion

Maybe some of you are interested in a little fantasy-adventure story. It is called 'through the years - all gods must die'. A mixture of Pirates of the Caribbean and Gods, but no FF.