Before the union of Rhaenyra with Ser Laenor Velaryon, an event etched forever in memory took place when Daemon claimed Rhaenyra's innocence in the hidden corners of a brothel, planting a seed of life within the princess rightful to the Iron Throne...
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It will take a while to make you smile Somewhere in those eyes, I'm on your side
Prince Aemond walked beside Rhaella with his hand over the dark, sharp-edged knife he couldn't bear to part with-tucked away in his pocket.
"Quite frankly," Rhaella began, "I don't care for you nor your mother. What you two discuss is none of my concern. I no longer have anything to lose."
Aemond looked in the girl's direction to find Rhaella staring blankly at the ground, with eyes dull and lifeless. He sighed, "I would ask what caused such a glumly mood, but then you would trail off and belittle me."
"Never mind that. I only want to explore the outside world a bit more. If Akira shan't live another day, I shall continue to live in her honor. It's what she would want," Rhaella sputtered.
He scrunched his nose with disgust. "I live for myself, not a mere woman nor a servant. It's beneath me."
Rhaella snapped her gaze at Aemond, watching how his disgustingly curled lips danced across his chiseled face. "What a charming young man you are, uncle," her voice laced with sarcasm. "I hope you find someone or something to look forward to in this life. If not, you may see parish in isolation."
For a brief moment, Aemond's eye twitched. He stiffened at the idea of love. It was a phenomenon that not even his own family had ever shown. "I think you forgot to mention how isolated you were, niece. I have no fear to die alone, so long as I may do so with a sword in my hand and Vhagar by my side. Then, I shall be the happiest man in the world."
Scoffing, Rhaella glimpsed at Aemond for longer than she should have. "You truly are a mysterious beast of a man, Aemond Targaryen."
"Niece, if you keep staring at me like that, I might begin to suspect that you secretly enjoy my presence," Aemond smirked.
Her mouth hung agape. "W-what?! Not by the seven seas would I ever love a man as ruthless and callous as yourself! I like you as much as I step on thorns in a garden."
The man's eye lit up. "Ah, you don't like me, hmm? I take it you hadn't worn that scantily clad nightgown for my liking?"
Rhaella gasped, tugging the cloak over herself. "You foul, loathsome creature! If you cannot refrain from making crude comments, I shall return to my chambers...."
He chuckled, "I highly doubt that, princess. We are already minutes away from the town, and besides, what is waiting for you at your chambers, hmm? Sadness and isolation, I suppose."
Instead of responding, Rhaella clamped her mouth shut for the rest of their walk into town. She never once loosened her grip on the black cloak that shielded the view of her womanly figure.
Upon reaching the town, it was everything the young princess could remember-a somewhat colorless place with a rancid stench that filled the air. The commoners still appeared lowly and slumped, with little to no hope in their lives. Rhaella's heart broke for them.
"Poor souls," she mumbled. Her gaze flickered from the different commoners until she stumbled across a man-
His sterling dark crystal eyes were the only feature of his face Rhaella could see. The cloth around his body was oddly well-stitched for a mere commoner. She could almost place him as an acquaintance. Yet, it could be a like-minded person in disguise from the royal palace.
"Break your unbearable pity amongst these commoners. You know as well as I that you have no power to help. After all, you are a girl."
With a sigh, Rhaella narrowed her eyes at Aemond. "Is that meant to intimidate me? You are sorely mistaken, understood? I am not one to fall slave to the norms of society." She scoffed, "I'll have you know I am of strong mind, body, and soul!"
Aemond eyed the girl up and down. "Are you sure, niece? I doubt such as you continue to quiver and shake from the midnight stroll. You may fool yourself, but you will never fool me."
"For God's sake, Aemond! Quit teasing me," she grumbled. "What is it that you wanted to show me?"
Smirking, the prince grabbed onto Rhaella's hand and fled north towards the building made of brothels, a place for whores and the horniest of people to collide. Upon arriving, the two met the gaze of numerous scantily clad women dancing seductively with their bossism hanging from the thinnest material of lingerie.
"Hi, handsome." A blonde woman with bare, ample breasts purred, holding onto Aemond's padded shoulder.
For the shortest moment, Rhaella felt slightly nauseous by the young blonde who attempted to sway Aemond. Yet, the dozens of nude women that pranced around her, wearing nothing but the bare minimum, did little to relieve her worries. In all of her years, she would have never believed herself to be in a position such as this-surrounded by naked people doing strange things.
She gulped as the blonde woman's bare bottom swelled in front of her and Aemond. With disgust, Rhaella squeezed her eyes shut and looked away. The sudden urge to puke bubbled in her gut from the bottom of her stomach.
"Oh, heavens!" Rhaella shrieked, moving away from the woman. "I-I can't handle it. I want nothing more than to leave."
Aemond chuckled, his hands stroking the woman's neck. "What, niece? A man can't have fun?"
"When I think of fun, I imagine books, flowers, and if I feel devious, maybe a truffle," she winced, "not this sinful behavior!"
Clicking his tongue, Aemond pushed the blonde girl from his grasp. "Don't be such a prude, niece. It's not a delectable look on you."
"Nothing is! It will never be, Aemond. You're just a man whore!"
He scoffed, "And you are a shadow of a woman who hasn't satisfied her betrothed!"
Without a second thought, Rhaella stormed up to Aemond and slapped him as hard as she could-yet, he didn't flinch. His smirk grew upon the girl's hand swiping across his face.
The tall man leaned in close to Rhaella's ear. His hot breath danced across her skin, sending goosebumps throughout her body. "You have the Targaryen flare. I suppose we don't need to question your lineage like your brothers," he remarked in High Valyrian.
"You know nothing, Aemond Targaryen," she commanded in a raspy tone. Sighing, the young princess walked away from the one-eyed man with a frown.
As her feet carried her a short distance from the brothel, the gathering of commoners broke a piece of Rhaella that she hadn't noticed before. She felt an immense burden from Akira's death, then the mistreatment from the royal family of the regular folk of King's Landing. None of it was fair, except, as Aemond proclaimed, she had no power.
Her thoughts circled until she struck an idea. If she were to become Queen following Alicent's reign of terror, then she, beside Aemond, may lead the seven seas to happiness and prosperity. The idea was simple, almost too simplistic.
Except, if the alleged agreement between Queen Alicent and her mother, Princess Rhaenyra, were established and set in stone, then it would be plausible to allow herself and her betrothed to rule as King and Queen of the seven seas.
No, she would never grow to love a man like Aemond. Instead, she vowed to devote herself to the betterment of commoners. Such power rests in the hands of the two most prominent figures of the Targaryen dynasty: whoever sits on the Iron Throne and the individual who stands beside it.
