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Prologue
Aemma Velaryon was born during a summer storm. Eldest daughter and heir of the infamous Black Queen during the dance of the dragons, her birth was a rather awaited one.
Disappointment arose between the nobles when their precious heir was yet again a girl. Rumours swirled around when the heir to the Iron Throne did not resemble her Valyrian ancestors, save for her eyes which had her mother’s lilac gaze.
Fingers were pointed at Princess Rhaenyra, nobles questioned her daughter's legitimacy. People swore she resembled the princesses' sworn sword. Applauding themselves for their small minded victories, not many noticed that Aemma Velaryon had dornish features. Those who did notice, coined the name "Bronze Lady".
The Bronze Lady, a name Aemma Velaryon would hate. Bronze for her skin and bronze for her dragon. The fury and the lady.
But no matter, nobles weren't Targaryens, they did not have dragons. Aemma had blood of the dragon and that was enough for Viserys Targaryen.
Named after a dead queen and a last which had no ties with her and yet she loved her name. People might say she was delusional but she didn't mind, for if there was anything she loved more than oranges was to dream.
Her mania was an egg waiting to hatch, a parasite waiting for its host. Dreams of paranoia, a haze of lucid meanings, a future of uncertainty.
Dreams were her companions. It was what she and Helaena shared.
She had an affinity for beautiful things. Helaena, her mother's smile, Lucerys’s eyes, dreams and him.
Him,him,him,him,him.
She was a summer storm, summer storms and sapphire eyes make an odd pair. The one eyed prince loved his bronze lady. A love wrapped in golden string, waiting for the stranger to cut it.
She loved to dance during storms and he loved to watch her. None knew the stranger looms in a corner.
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