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To clarify ages in this chapter:
Ravaena-14
Luke-19
Jace-20
Baela-19
Rhaena-19
Rhaegar-17

ʀᴀᴠᴀᴇɴᴀ
"ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ ғᴏʀ ᴛᴇɴ ᴍɪɴᴜᴛᴇs, ᴛʜᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀʟɪᴛʏ ʜɪᴛs."

•°INTRODUCING:°• ʀʜᴀᴇɢᴀʀ ᴛᴀʀɢᴀʀʏᴇɴ.

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"He grabbed your arm?" Dyanna questioned pulling a stray hair out of her eyes.

"Yes. And didn't let go." Ravaena said.

"I hate them all Ravaena, I'm not a Green I swear it." Dyanna fumed and started pacing her room. Her long skirts trailing behind her as she manoeuvred throughout the area.

"I know Dy, you're more a Targaryen than anything." Dyanna nodded and came to sit beside Ravaena on the two seater the Targaryen was currently perched on.

"And your Grandsire?" The Hightower inquired.

"Not Well, his face is covered and his skin. Its so, thin and see through. I don't think Mother and Father are taking it too well."

Dyanna placed a gentle hand on Ravaena's knee. "It will be alright. Your Grandsire is a great one."

Ravaena nodded. He is too kind to be a king.

"Why must all of the other people in this damned city be either very unattractive, or very beautiful yet a terrible nature about them." Dyanna pointed out and sighed, placing her head on Ravaena's shoulder.

"I don't know. I know what we can do though." Ravaena said.

Dyanna gazed upwards, her eyes almost going into the back of her head.

"What?"

"Fly on Dragon back, over the sea to Pentos. And live our lives on the finest wine and lemon cakes."

Ravaena knocked her own head atop Dyanna's.

"That sounds like a splendid idea." She complimented, they both sat slouching on the seat, daydreaming about life away from this ghastly city. Away from court, away from Aemond Targaryen and Ser Criston Cole.

"We need to go don't we?" Ravaena asked. Dyanna nodded and stretched out her arms. Court was called in the Throne Room for midday, and that time has come. None of the Family or allies of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen were looking forward to this day. Her brother's were to be questioned about their legitimacy, when Luke was the rightful heir to Driftmark. But it seems Vaemond Velaryon thinks otherwise.
Ravaena too extended her arm span and yawned. She got up, patting down the black and red silk of her skirts. Flattening any creases out.

She offered her arm out for the Hightower who took it graciously. The two walked out if Dyanna's room arm in arm, Ravaena's white waves dashing about and Dyanna's loose curls bounced as they both traversed the halls of the Red Keep.

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