Fire and Blood

Chapter 26: Rhaenyra's Progress

YEAR 116 AC

The Riverlands ― Crossroads Inn...

Rhaenyra and Ser Criston had strolled down the kingsroad within the Riverlands for the past four months after ending her visit to the Twins. She hated having to do things she didn't like; her father pressuring her to get married, word reaching her that her stepmother Beatrice had finally given birth two months ago to another half-sibling – a baby girl they named Helaena, her brother and childhood best friend touring the realm together... so many lords vied for her hand in marriage, wanting to take her away from the only home Rhaenyra had ever known and strip her of her royal titles. But what more could she possibly do? Where Viserys had demanded one thing from her, Aeonar, however, gave her four options to choose from: the king arranges a suitable match for her, he gets a suitor for her, she finds a potential match of her own volition worthy of a princess of her station, or... she could refuse altogether but be left with absolutely nothing to her name, no support, forever a social outcast, a disgrace to the royal family.

Long before any man had reason to doubt her innocence, the question of selecting a suitable consort for Rhaenyra had been of concern to King Viserys and his council. Great lords and dashing knights fluttered around her like moths around a flame, vying for her favor. She was flattered, of course, but Rhaenyra did not find any of them attractive nor could she see any benefits they proposed to her. Stopping with Ser Criston to rest at the Crossroads Inn, Rhaenyra unpacked her belongings and set them beside her. However, even then, that didn't stop curious onlookers and eager minor lords in the area from noticing her.

"Can I get you anything, princess?" an innkeeper asked.

Rhaenyra sighed. "Whatever ale you have is strong," she requested.

"I can offer some brown ale if you'd like, princess."

"Yes, please."

The innkeeper left to fetch some brown ale for Rhaenyra and Criston. Upon returning and setting them down on the table, she left the two alone. Rhaenyra, detesting the search for a suitor, merely grasped the goblet and didn't hesitate to take a big gulp. Not used to the acquired taste or alcohol content, she couldn't hold it down and began choking.

"Um, princess?" Criston looked concerned. "I... I think you might want to slow down a bit."

"*Ack!* *Ack!* I think after what I've had to endure at the Twins― *Ack!* *Ack!* I think I'm entitled to at least blow off some steam, Ser Criston," Rhaenyra coughed. The memory of a younger son of House Frey, Ser Forrest, made so bold as to ask openly for her hand. He was thereafter referred to as 'Fool Frey' for his directness. "Fool Frey. Huh! Who does he think he is, thinking of himself as an equal to me?"

"Reckless, I agree. Disrespectful. But you must admit he didn't beat around the bush as some of the nobles did. Like Lord Jason, for example."

"That's... hah, a fair point. How... how much more do we have left?"

"Well, we still have the Stormlands to go to. Lord Boremund already has some of his bannermen at Storm's End, as well as a few river lords who unfortunately couldn't meet us at the Twins."

"Storm's End, huh?"

Criston nodded. "Yes, princess," he confirmed. "And don't worry. I'm from the Stormlands so I know the region like the back of my hand. If we continue on this route," he points to the map, "through the Gate of the Gods, and resupply in King's Landing before going past the Mud Gate, we should reach the Bronzegate which is directly above Storm's End." I wonder if father or Lord Dondarrion will be there. It would be nice to see them again. They'll be proud of me once they see me in the white cloak.