Stelsa, the girl crafted from the broken leftovers from the Gods, is far from the expectations of a normal lady. Her father, Aaeron Meryls, and her uncles sought to train her in the way of the blade. Many whisper about her origin - is she bastard li...
"A dragon about to breathe fire. THAT IS ALL STELSA SAW."
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THE LIGHT FILTERED THROUGH the tiny window, providing just enough light in the shared quarters for Stelsa and Aaeron — the two sat side by side with a book opened on the table. Stelsa felt her head slightly throbbing as she looked at the words. Each morning while the royal children went to the dragon pit, Stelsa spent time locked away in her own pit. Except this one did not have dragons and was torture, complete and utter torture. Aaeron spent a great deal of time working on her reading and writing. Despite all the time they had put in, Stelsa still struggled with certain letters.
Stelsa was thankful when the door swung open and abruptly ended the lesson. Rhyk closed the door behind him before he clapped his hands together, "I come with news." He proclaimed, walking over to the daughter and father duo, "Princess Rhaenyra has given birth to another healthy boy!"
"Great." Stelsa huffed, slouching into her chair, "Another boy." Aaeron nudged her with his elbow, giving her a sharp glare but the little wolf did not care. She was too busy sulking.
"That is great news." Aaeron responded, looking away from his sulking daughter and to his friend. Rhyk pulls a spare chair out and sits, eyeing the book sat before the father and daughter. He grabs the book and drags it over to him.
"A history lecture? That is rather boring." Rhyk huffed out, lifting the book up to glance over the contents. Aaeron was about to tell him that the book was Stelsa's choosing, but his daughter jumped at the opportunity.
"Not when it is about Aegon the Conqueror and his sister wives!" Stelsa exclaimed, sitting up so she could watch her uncle inspect the book. She waited for the same enthusiasm she had about it, but Rhyk merely set the book down and eyed her, "We are currently on Visyena."
"Ah." Rhyk slid the book back before them, "A follower of hers?" At his question, Rhyk watches the way his niece lights up with excitement. It was a sight Rhyk adored — Stelsa's eyes would brighten, her eyebrows would raise slightly, and she would suck in a breath before spewing out words.
"She was one of the greatest warriors to walk our realm!" Stelsa's arms shot out and waved, "What is there not to follow?" Stelsa believed that was the true question. She could not wait to ask Aemond more about Visyena next time she met him.
Rhyk chuckles, leaning over the table to ruffle the mop of dark brown hair adorn his niece's head, "I suppose this is the least boring part of history." Rhyk comments, grinning as he watched Stelsa comb her fingers through her hair.
"History is not boring, Rhyk." Aaeron mused, leaning back in his seat. He felt his lips twitching to turn into a matching grin, but Aaeron refrained from doing so.
"Oh, it is insatiably boring." Rhyk shot back, turning his gaze to Aaeron, "I much prefer books on war strategies."
Aaeron groans, "That is insatiably boring." He repeats Rhyk's words, earning a glare from his friend. Rhyk leans back in his seat and taps the wooden table, pulling Stelsa's gaze to him.
