Unintended

Chapter One

"It is ridiculous, don't you think?" Rhaenyra asked, her voice pitching up out of frustration. Ser Criston shrugged, stoking their fire as night fell. "To arrange a betrothal for your daughter at her birth?"

"It is not uncommon, princess", Ser Criston replied, his eyes scanning the woods for any threats. She had snuck out of the hunting camp for Aegon's second name day and he had followed closely behind, keeping an eye on her. Rhaenyra huffed, plopping down on an overturned log. She stared up at the evening sky through the treetops, admiring the way the last rays of sun cast shadows on the leaves.

"Do lords and kings just sit around and think 'isn't it wonderful that you had a son a year ago and now I conveniently have a daughter? I have a brilliant idea, we should marry them off to each other!' without even sparing a thought for the children they're using as little pawns."

"It is not a death sentence, princess." She ignored him.

"And when I told my father I did not wish to marry Ser Harwin, Otto Hightower suggested that I wed Aegon instead. Aegon? He is two. Completely absurd. Otto Hightower only suggested it because he is an overly ambitious man who wishes to have his own flesh and blood on the throne one day." She crossed her arms, turning to glare at the flames.

"At least you would be able to hold off the wedding for longer", he replied with a chuckle. "Would it be so terrible to wed Ser Harwin?" Ser Criston asked, raising a brow at her. "He has not done anything untoward, has he?" Rhaenyra shook her head. "Are you sure? I could always kill him for you if he has."

"It will not be necessary to kill Ser Harwin", Rhaenyra groaned, rubbing her hands over her face. "He is... a gentleman, I suppose, but I did not choose him. For sixteen years, my entire life, he has been my intended, and I have hardly shared more than a few sentences with him. And I meant to wed him in a month's time?"

"I do not want to overstep but I believe the reason you have not shared more than a few sentences is because you will not allow him to speak with you."

"He never tries to speak to me", Rhaenyra huffed, throwing her hands up.

"He never speaks to you because you look at him like you're planning to feed him to Syrax if he shows any intention of approaching you."

"Perhaps he does not speak to me because he does not want to marry me", Rhaenyra said hopefully. Ser Criston snorted, lips tugging up at one corner.

"Are you being serious?" he asked incredulously.

"Of course."

"He wants to marry you." His tone was firm, final.

"How would you know that? Do you speak with him often about our impending nuptials?" Ser Criston shook his head, settling back as the fire blazed higher.

"Aside from the obvious, he has a duty to perform as the heir to his house. His family is loyal and he will surely uphold his end of the agreement without objection. Marrying you will make him Prince Consort and only a fool would be willing to give that up."

"What do you mean by 'the obvious'?"

Ser Criston gestured at her and she raised a brow. He sighed, rolling his eyes.

"I only meant that you are attractive, princess. I am sure you are aware of this. Men do tend to enjoy marrying an attractive woman." Rhaenyra straightened, pulling her shoulders back.

"So you think that if he did not find me attractive he would be less inclined to continue with our betrothal?" Ser Criston's face scrunched.

"Do I now have to worry that you will maim yourself to get out of your own wedding?" Rhaenyra laughed loudly, shaking her head.