Champagne Problems | Daemon Targaryen

02.

Riella

"Can I tell you a story?" My father asks. I immediately start nodding and I walk towards him, sitting on his leg.

"I love stories," I reply with a bright grin. He smiles back at me.

"The story starts with a princess," he begins and I clap.

"I'm a princess!" I say, it's exciting, I'm just like the girl in the story.

"This princess was like you," he says. "She was beautiful and kind and she loved her kingdom very much. One day she met a handsome prince. He looked at her like she was the sun, as though she were the brightest presence in the world. They fell in love and got married. And when the princess became queen, her prince became king. And the two lived happily ever after."

  "Is this story about me?" I ask excitedly. "Am i the princess?"

  "Every story I tell is about you, Riella," he says with a smile.

—

  "Papa," I cry out as my knees fall to the ground beside him. "Papa."

  "L-let me tell you a story," he stutters as blood drips down his face.

  "I don't want to hear a story, papa," tears roll off my face and onto the floor. "I don't want you to die."

  "Once upon a t-time," he begins. "There was a beautiful princess. She lived a happy and peaceful childhood with her b-beloved mama and papa. But one d-day everyone the princess loved was taken away from her. For a w-while she mourned them. Until she finally g-gathered enough strength to avenge those she'd l-lost. And one day she finally moved on and created a family of her own."

  "Papa," my voice cracked. "Is this story about me?"

  "Every story is about you," he says and then the light fades from his eyes. He goes still.

  "Papa," I cry. "Don't go, papa." I rest my head on his chest, trying to listen to a heartbeat.

—

   "How are you?" My grandmother, Lydria Targaryen asks as I sit with my legs crossed beneath me. I briefly glance at her.

  "I'm fine," I reply before staring back at my hands.

  "I lost you for a moment," she says. She looks old. She is old in fact. She could trip and die at any moment. And no one would care because she is old and it's her time.

  "Your new guard is lovely to look at," she continues. I look at Ser Criston for a moment before looking away.

  "He's not lovely in personality though," I say before reaching for my tea.

  "You're good at acting," grandmother says and I tilt my head when looking at her. "You're like me in that department."

  "I don't know what you mean," I say. "I am everything I have always been."

  "You are a liar," she says. "Buts that a good thing. It means no one will ever see what you're truly feeling. It's a cover up."