| ON HOLD |
WICKED AFFAIRS
"And that's the thing about illicit affairs
And clandestine meetings and longing stares
It's born from just one single glance
But it dies and it dies and it dies
A million little times."
IN WH...
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AS THE FLAT SOLESOF her riding boots tapped across the stone flooring that encompassed the castle's entryway, a strange sense of comfort flooded through Vaerra Targaryen when her pale eyes drifted across the familiar sights of what had been her childhood home. Throughout her earliest years, the Red Keep always seemed to be the grandest place she had ever seen. From the large elaborately constructed rooms to the dazzling décor that blanketed the castle at every turn, Vaerra believed she was blessed to live within such a magnificent structure passed through her family line.
But in truth, what Vaerra had once perceived as a stunning feat of architecture paled in comparison to other creations erected across the known world. Within the hierarchy of such things, the lodgings of the royal family sat fairly low in regards to height and enormity. Even the rich and abundant splendor that adored the halls seemed to lack in the shine she had held so dear.
Gone were the thick, intricately woven tapestries of Targaryen histories and dragon imagery far too obscene for the eyes of children. In their place stood carefully carved statues of dark stone, each one dedicated to the worship of the Faith. The veiled and stern face of the Mother, the thickly bearded chin of the Father, and even the youthful features of the Maiden were among the many spotted upon entry into the castle. Wooden Seven-Pointed Stars were hung before window panes or from the towering ceilings, casting their rigid shadows across rooms as if their higher powers looked down on those who stepped beneath their shade.
Another Hightower in the making.
It seemed her grandsire had finally gained the control he so desperately craved for all those years as Hand of the King.
Vaerra tried her hardest to keep her expression placid, ignoring the leering stares of the new sculptures, as her mother continued to lead them deeper into the castle walls. Otto had quickly given an excuse to take his leave, speeding off down a corridor to attend to something that surely could've waited until another time. Next to slip away had been Aegon, offering up a less eloquent reason that Vaerra knew didn't even exist. And in all honesty, she couldn't very well blame him for it. If she were in his place, she would've done the same.
Soon after Aegon's departure, Helaena mumbled out the need to see to her children's needs as the day grew late and the time for supper approached. Vaerra longed to go with her sister, considering she had missed the births of her niece and nephews and never got the chance to even meet them during their short years of life. But she knew her mother wouldn't allow it. After all, the visitation of the King came first and foremost.
And with her sister's leave, Aemond took part as the dutifully protective brother, looping Helaena's arm with his own to escort her through the halls and toward her children's quarters.
