"She knew she was playing with fire, but gods, how badly she wanted to be burned."
~
Rheya~ the blacksmith with a will of steel and a kiss of silver.
He had never wanted anyone so badly.
~
Aemond Targaryen x OC
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The gown that she was given was the finest thing she had ever worn. Deep green and black fabric fell around her, collar high and shoulders sharp, trailing down to long, wide sleeves. She looked like a woman. She looked dangerous. Rheya wanted to feel beautiful, to believe the compliments that the maids showered her with as they braided her long hair. But she couldn't shake the feeling of his eye on her wounds. She felt dirty.
But still, she held her head high as she was escorted by Sir Criston to the great hall. A crowd had gathered, clearly nobles and lords judging by their attire. Rheya still had no clue what her brother had done to have warranted such a mass of witnesses. A wooden platform had been raised in the centre of the room, and barely standing upon it, she spotted him. Hollis was chained down, his body leant against the front of the podium before him. Rheya barely suppressed a gasp at the state of him. Yes, he was a cruel, vile man. But he was the only family she had left.
Sir Criston wasn't as rough with her now as he previously had been. He guided her up the dias to another podium just beneath the throne. And when Rheyas eyes fell away from her brother, she was met with the gaze of the queen regent, standing just before the Iron Throne. Beside her along the steps stood her family. The two princes and their sister, along with the hand of the king. Rheya had heard that the king was in a bad way, but she did not realise that he wasn't even able to make it to his throne.
Suddenly the hushed whispers in the room fell silent. She had reached the podium, and the queen was speaking to her.
"Lady Rheya." The queen turned to face her, her own face grim. "Do you know why you have been called here on this day?"
"I- no, Your Grace." She swallowed as she looked about the room, then at her brother, trying to piece it all together. She found all eyes on her, but none were as piercing as the eye of Aemond Targaryen. He looked at her with a cold fury, his mouth set in a line.
"Your brother stands accused of conspiring to murder the princes." Otto Hightower was the one to speak, and Rheya couldn't control the laugh that burst harshly from her.
"What?" She whispered out as an afterthought.
"You think this funny, girl?" The queen looked angrily at her.
"Of course not, Your Grace. But my brother is a witless fool. He does not have the mind for conspiring." She looked at her sibling with distaste, but spoke honestly.
"So you deny his involvement in the crime?"
"I deny any knowledge of the crime at all." Whispers broke out at that, but we're promptly silenced. She slid her eyes to Aemond. He had her imprisoned for days after arresting her, and had told her nothing in that time.
"Then let me fill you in, you stupid girl. There was an attempt on the lives of the princes five nights ago. An armed assailant entered Prince Aemonds chamber brandishing a knife. Luckily, the prince is more than capable of defending himself and was able to stop the intruder. His trial was held here three nights ago, during which he confessed to purchasing the blade from your brother." Otto sneered at her.
