𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉 𝖉𝖞𝖓𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖞, 𝐚. 𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧¹

𝟎𝟎𝟎. THE BEGINNING

        UPON FIRST glance, one might think that the lives of those within the glittering Red Keep were joyful, plentiful, and rife with wealth and opportunities. One would not be wrong for thinking such things, but there was an air of ignorance when it came to the manner in which opposites viewed each other. Those within the castles and the cities believed themselves to be superior, that they were, based on riches alone, better than the smallfolk that lived beneath them.

       Likewise, the smallfolk viewed those within the castle and the cities as privileged, arrogant, and selfish. Whilst they labored day and night, struggling to put food on the tables before their families, the rich squandered their wealth with tournaments, weddings, and other extravagant celebrations, the purpose of which seemed only to flaunt wealth and status.

       'Twas the curse of the realm: to be forever divided. The rich and against the poor, the strong against the weak, the foreign against the native. What the rich people in the castles and cities did not realize was that their wealth and extravagance made them better than no one. It was all a tasteless competition to see who could outperform who and all of it was born of the innate desire to hide one's own insecurities and faults by pointing out those of other people.

        Just as the powerful were flawed in their way of thinking, the smallfolk were flawed as well. They did not take into account how utterly difficult it was to exist at court. To know when to speak and what to say, to know what lords represent what houses, to know that your life would never truly be your own.

        To be born a son in the world of Westeros was a blessing and a curse, but it was still a far better trade than being born a daughter. A son could train with swords and bows and horses. A son could pick his wife and forge a name for himself. A son could do as he wished. A daughter was not so lucky.

        Least lucky of all were the prestigious daughters whose lives were confined to the Red Keep. There was the first and favorite daughter of King Viserys, the Crown Princess Rhaenyra, a woman whose life has been shrouded with misery and whispers, a woman whose actions have reaped unwanted, unpunished consequences. Then there was the second daughter of King Viserys, Princess Helaena, the poor girl who had been wedded to her cruel, foolish brother. The dreamer whose voice was forgotten.

         There was the third and final daughter of King Visyers, Princess Aenora, the twin to the disfigured prince whose mere presence unnerved the entire court. This daughter lived her life in the shadows of her siblings, born the youngest daughter of a king who only loved his first child, the twin of the far more infamous prince. She was not as sweet or dutiful as her elder sister, not as intelligent or strong as her twin.

         And then there was Alysanne Lannister, a girl who was not a princess nor a true lady, but merely the daughter of a knight and the niece of a lord. To most eyes, Alysanne might be considered a plain girl, with her most notable feature being her long golden hair that stretched beyond her waist, a striking declaration of who she was and the color of the blood that coursed through her veins: gold. Like all Lannisters, Alysanne chose to adorn herself in shades of gold and crimson, decorating her delicate frame in the colors of her prestigious house, her gowns a reflection of the incredible wealth her father and uncle possessed.