𝐃𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐘 彡 [a. targaryen] [✔]

─ 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞.

*ೃ༄𝐔𝐍𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘

With a face like stone, Lucaena Targaryen observed the funeral procession of Laena Velaryon. Her platinum locks were tossed around by the relentless winds of Driftmark and with each second she spent standing on the coastline, her lips became more chapped. The heavy concentration of salt in the air stuck to her skin until the girl felt uncomfortably sticky. Not to mention the way that the aforementioned salty air almost caused her lungs to collapse with each breath. Looking around, the young Princess witnessed many faces contorted by melancholy. A young woman had been lost—a daughter, a wife, and a mother. Her death impacted many. Lucaena was not one of them.

The youngest Princess picked at her teeth with her tongue, patiently awaiting for the ceremony to finally be over and done with. She actively had to stop herself from yawning as the funeral just dragged along aimlessly. In the distance, even with the crashes of the waves, Lucaena could hear Valarr roar stridently. The onyx-hued dragon clearly wasn't content being on an island smelling of nothing but salt.

Neither was his rider.

Thinking about Valarr might have been the smartest thing Lucaena could do to get herself through the slow-paced funeral. She thought about finally escaping her family's side—her mother's strict glances most of all—and getting to fly with Valarr. Lucaena bit down on her lower lip, but even that wasn't enough to stop the smile threatening to take shape. She felt a nudge to her shoulder and in an instant, her eyes connected with her twin brother. Aemond gave her a questioning look. He needed to know what Lucaena was grinning about. But the girl didn't share her thoughts. Instead, Lucaena just shrugged and looked forward, reverting back to the same stoic expression she started her day with.

The Princess closed her eyes as another strong breeze came to slap her across the face and before she realized it, Aemond was guiding her to the modest banquet which was planned after the funeral. The twins stood in the farthest corner, whispering amongst themselves as their hypercritical eyes shifted from person to person. In the midst of telling her brother about how unbearable it was to sleep in the bed she'd been given, Lucaena's eyes met her half-sister's. Rhaenyra sucked in a forceful breath at the sight of her youngest (and most unstable) sister. Lucaena watched Rhaenyra's eyes glance at their uncle and then right back at her.

The smirk that crossed Lucaena's lips could only be described as malignant. It boiled Rhaenyra's blood to an indefinite extent. Even more so when the heir to the Iron Throne observed Lucaena plant a soft kiss on Aemond's cheek before leaving his side confidently. Rhaenyra and the youngest Targaryen Princess made eye contact one last time as Lucaena began to approach their uncle. Envy simply didn't suit Rhaenyra. She worried Lucaena would one day gain their uncle's respect as well just like how she did with their father's. Little did Rhaenyra know that Lucaena had no interest in getting on Daemon's good side. She just wanted to cause problems.