ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʇɐᴚ ʇǝǝɹʇS ǝɥ⊥

♕. ᴀ ɢᴀᴍᴇ ᴏꜰ sǝıɹoʇsıH

CHAPTER FOUR | You Only Know Fire And Blood

You try to recall every decision in your life. Each choice made you subject to intensive scrutiny creating a tedious game that muddles your memory, leaving more questions than answers.

Your room sits with vast gold trimmings and deft craftsmanship. No couples fighting, children roaming, or merchants cursing thieves as Gold Cloaks fail to catch them. Only a consistent flow of servants in and out of your chambers—your cage. Each of them moves in a demeaning uniformity that challenges the very fabric of all you believe in.

The chamber door remains locked at all hours, and servants keep their distance, leaving you to wonder what became of the servants you traumatized. Three full days pass with silence accompanying you for breakfast, lunch, and supper. The shade of night hides your tears, and the shine of day showcases your ire. A summons from the King interrupts the feedback loop of your daily routine.

The prying fingers of servants send tremors through your body as they scrub your body raw. You rest your head on the wash basin's edge, glowering at nothing in particular. The lavender oil coating your skin knots your stomach, and potent wafts fill your nostrils. Pushing yourself off the basin edge, you ignore how the servants eye you warily. You close your eyes, tilting your head back, slowly sinking into the cool water. Your hair expands at the touch as the water nips at the edges of your jaw and cheeks. Opening your eyes, you stare, the distance in your eyes filling the room with a growing void.

The dark ceiling and glowing candlelight splinter without an end or beginning. Your eyes flutter shut as you focus on the constant hum of shifting water.

"I can't do this, can I?" You said, floating on your back with your eyes closed. Pranar kept his hands on your lower back as he glanced over his shoulder. You stiffened as your body sunk at the removal of his hand. You flinched forward, gripping his tunic with wide eyes, "Pa, where are you going?"

"Never far, my girl," You mirrored your fathers' grin, frowning at the rising chatter from the city that's shadowed by the loud ringing. The bells, the heady sound, reached beyond the murky saltwater of Blackwater bay that blocked your eardrums.

"Pa, why do they ring?" Looking up at your father, he glanced over his shoulder once more. An urgency danced in his eyes, clouding his usual sunny disposition.

When he turned back to you, he insisted you try to float again. Despite your protests, he redirected your attention once more. His hands kept your body above the surface, your eyes closed as you relished in the weightlessness.

"You will be quite good at this, my girl, and many other things. Just because you don't get it right away doesn't mean you will not," Your heart hammered at the water that teased closer to swallowing you beneath it, "There are things you must remember to survive Kings Landing. No good comes when the Keep bells ring. You are a Rivers. You must protect yourself—no one else will."

You opened your eyes to be greeted by the vast blue sky staring back at you. Wisps of clouds stained the blue, and you ignored your fathers' praises as you kept yourself afloat.

You bite back a grimace as a servant tightens your corset. Leaning on the bedpost, your lips purse as you shake your head, returning to the present. The gown hugs the corset with a constricting snug, and the march to Aegon's quarters leaves you breathless.