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𝐓𝐇𝐄 night stood, long and bitter. It's tones of glacial rouses had spread over the city she would soon be departing. It was like she had bitten into a fruit that was both sweet and acerb, the taste becoming delightfully saccharine once it's chrisp texture hits your teeth, but as your denticulation cheews through it, the sour notes come to light, enough to make you nearly recoil in distaste.
The matter that she was finally separating herself from her family, moving into no longer being some Princess, but a woman, gave her nerves both a sense of apprehension and odd, almost joyous excitement.
Despite it all, the harsh reality of her logistic brain couldn't help but pull her back into a more rational sense of thinking.
She was owned once by her father and King, and yet now, Jacaerys, her own husband, was the one that directed the leash of her existence. Any decision she made, from now on it was controlled by yet another man. Like a bird caught by humans, this transaction of her marriage was like being moved from one cage, to another. A puppeteer that controlled the strings of her own resolutions was Aerys and Rhaegar, the pupeeter that was handed the strings was Jacaerys, or as Drhaella more thought, Lucerys.
The truth was that no woman in this world was truly free enough to make decisions as she pleases. They become slaves to marriage and the reproduction of the human kind, or more so, their husband's line. Drhaella was now a crucial part of that chain. The practical link of slavery was a shackle that went across each female, each little girl that grew into a teenager, then a woman and until like a flower, she wilted into the dirt.
Wether she desired it or not, it mattered little. Her virginty was taken away by a man who had probably done the same act countless of times before. Her body was now laying in waiting until the seed of her husband would produce a child, a child that everyone would pray to be a son.
She was stuck. Permanently. Adhered to actions that drove her father into a path of insanity, and her mother into a repeating manner of breeding like a form of livestock, Drhaella was left to ponder wether or not her future would end up like her mother.
Ever since she was a young girl it was drilled into her head how a Princess of her status was to behave. A part of her expected royal conduct, was to be an agreeable, lekker girl that answered even the worst of reviles, with a pleasant smile and a hoax of candied words. Considering all of this, it was apparent she would pick up the others innocent sham.
Jacaerys was one who desparately acted as if he was bewitched by her. Though it was obscurely obvious, that was anything but the truth. His now wife had caught on rather early to his little play of feigned innocence. The fact that a man such as him, would desire to wed a woman like her was too large of a function to be considered a mere act of serendipity.
