"Is it not unbecoming of a man of the city watch to enter a lady's chambers uninvited?"
"Is it not unbecoming of a lady to hold a blade to the commander of the city watch's throat, my princess?"
[or]
Amongst the ceaseless battle of succession to Vi...
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107 A.C
WORD OF THE PRINCESSES LATE NIGHT GALAVANT DOWN THE STREET OF SILK HAD SPREAD LIKE WILDFIRE WITHIN THE WALLS OF THE RED KEEP. From the lowliest of servants to the highborn lords and ladies of the court, it seemed all who walked the Keep's halls had something to whisper on the matter. Baela cared little for the words floating around once her back was turned unlike Tayla who scolded the other handmaidens at every opportunity, and Josian who had taken it upon himself to not so subtly imply that he was more than willing to compose a list to present to the King of all those who dared tarnish the Princess's name.
And then there was Viserys, the poor man hadn't even had the chance to break his fast before his troublesome sister was already giving him a headache.
Willfully ignorant of the minor suffering she had placed upon her eldest brother's shoulders, Baela stood once more before the dragon pit, Syrrith dutifully looming at her side as secured her cloak around her shoulders. Tayla had all but raced after the Targaryen Princess in a bid to catch her before she'd taken to the skies, fearing the overcast clouds would make way for rain and leave the Princess soaked through to the bone. Baela appreciated the gesture, giving her handmaiden's hands a gentle squeeze before bidding her back to the Keep before she too ended up caught in the oncoming weather.
Syrrith's head cocked toward the Keep, his reptilian eyes focusing on something behind his rider. The soft scuffing of several pairs of armoured boots against the dirt reached Baela's ears and yet she did not turn away from her scaled companion, instead, she simply continued to adjust the gloves on her nimble hands. The footsteps came to a standstill behind her, evidently too close for Syrrith's liking as the dragon huffed, his warm breath ruffling the loose silver strands that had fallen from Baela's haphazard braid.
"If you have come at the behest of his grace to discourage us from our venture, I'm afraid the outcome will be dissatisfying on your part," The Princess hummed, brushing her fingers over Syrrith's scaled snout soflty. "A few droplets of water are hardly reason enough to disrupt our routine."
"I'd gathered as much." Her brother's voice was the last she had been expecting to hear, Lord Westerling or Ser Josain almost certainly but not Viserys himself.
Turning, Baela's lips pulled into a soft smile as she took a single step away from Syrrith and toward the King. "Dear brother, should you not be with the Queen and Rhaenyra in the dining hall?"
"Indeed," Viserys did not look pleased to be reminded that, despite his best efforts, he had yet to eat. "But I have a meddlesome sister who, despite my endless wishes for her to cease her unaccompanied strolls outside the Keep, continues to do so with absolutely no regard for her own safety."
"We have a sister?" Baela asked, a teasing smirk playing at her lips and a mischievous twinkle dancing within her lilac eyes. "How peculiar that I've yet to meet her."
