"Is it not unbecoming of a man of the city watch to enter a lady's chambers uninvited?"
"Is it not unbecoming of a lady to hold a blade to the commander of the city watch's throat, my princess?"
[or]
Amongst the ceaseless battle of succession to Vi...
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111 A.C
VISERYS TARGARYEN HAD BEEN WARNED NOT TO SEND BAELA TARGARYEN AWAY ON HER TOUR OF THE REALM WITH ONLY A MEMBER OF THE KINGSGUARD AND A LONE HANDMAIDEN OF HIS PERSONAL SELECTION TO KEEP HIS DARLING SISTER IN LINE. Otto had forewarned that no good would come of entrusting the princess to act according to her station whilst away from the prying eyes of those at court. He had not listened, and so now he was paying the price for his willful ignorance.
Raven after raven had greeted him the morning that followed his sister's arrival at Harrenhal. With each roll of parchment unfirled, with the comprehension of each word that marred the papers before him, his hope for an exceptional tour withered and died. Claims of a sword being drawn against the many lords of the land could not simply be brushed aside when reported in volumes such as these, Viserys could only pray to the gods that it was nothing more than a misunderstanding and that an easy solution would present itself but given Baela's involvement in the debacle, he knew in his heart of hearts that no such fortune would befall him.
As soon as news of the ship carrying his sister appearing upon the horizon had reached him, Viserys had ordered the kingsguard to retrieve her with haste. All too quickly, had Otto Hightower taken up post at the King's side, claims of offering council on the matter falling easily from his lips despite Viserys having previously stated his wishes to deal with the Princess's missteps in private. In anticipation of the oncoming uproar, the eldest of the Targaryen line had little energy to spare on repeating himself and so let his Hand be, choosing to reserve his vexation for whom he deemed more deserving of it.
Baela Targaryen refused to meet the King's gaze as the doors to the throne room were opened, revealing her to the men within. She walked swiftly, head held high and unwavering in her stolid facade despite the trepidation that clawed at her insides. Her stomach twisting, bile threatening to rise in her throat as she curtsied before Viserys, the prospect of having finally gone too far in the eyes of her beloved brother causing her heart to ache within her chest. "Your Grace."
"Formalities," Viserys scoffed. The King believed to know his sister better than he knew himself at times, and times such as these where the princess would uphold the formalities expected of her despite having no audience to play witness to the act were always an admission of her wrongdoings. "Am I correct in assuming you understand the severity of the actions you have taken upon your visit to Harrenhal?"
"Yes, your Grace, I do." Baela nodded, fighting to keep her mask of composure from cracking. "Upon reflection, it has become clear to me that my regrettable actions were unbefitting of someone of my standing."
"I wonder how long the Princess and Lady Parne rehearsed such responses on their journ-"
Viserys rose his hand, silencing Otto before the man could finish his words.
