"We come from pure strength Daenerys." Her brother told her as he flipped through the old tome. "Viserra Velaryon. As untamable as the sea itself. Her brother Aemar. A greenseer and a mighty warrior. Aemond Targaryen. Rider of Vhagar, the largest dr...
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Chapter 11:
Needless to say all the grand events that had been planned for the Royal Wedding carried on. Except the grand wedding itself. Viserys took a day to recover from whatever had caused him to collapse but afterward the tourney resumed as scheduled. House Velaryon was in attendance, if only briefly. The first day of jousts and duels was filled with Viserra glaring endlessly at Ser Criston who spent his time glaring at Rhaenyra. The enraged young woman did all she could to rein in her anger all whilst feeling the eyes of her parents lingering on her throughout the day. If anything good came of her attitude it was noticing how Ser Criston now hovered by Queen Alicent. Her mind, taking a break from its seething, cataloged what an odd switch it was she was witnessing. One would think that the knight would be doting on his paramour, the Realm's Delight who looked. . . grief stricken? It was not for Ser Joffrey, Rhaenyra did not know him well enough to look so devastated.
Viserra's eyes darted back and forth between the two, the only assumption she could make was that the pair of lovers had a quarrel. Good, she thought spitefully, Laenor should not be the only one to lose the partner he loved so dearly. And perhaps that will teach Rhaenyra, when you open your heart – and your legs – you invite the possibility of great heartbreak. The carnal pleasure also sneaks in a great pain waiting to implode. Viserra chuckled softly but no less dark and maliciously. Behind her Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys exchanged a glance. Viserra had spent the day prior between fits of rage and moments of calm. So calm it was unnerving. Corlys had whispered to his wife that if Viserra had been the sea no man alive would have dared set sail.
Among Viserra throwing and breaking belongings that were not hers – the only revenge she could enact in the present moment – she also had ordered her entire wardrobe be remade within the day. Her appearance at the tournament had been enough to make most keep their distance from her. A feat the fourteen year old relished in. She had never been feared before. She found she rather liked it. Her gown was pure black with a high collar and sleeves that hugged her arms all the way down to her wrists. There was no detailing, no cutouts, no lace nor embroidery. She wore no jewelry even. Her hair rested in a single plait down her back with a tendril of curled hair by each ear. But the most unsettling part of her outfit was the belt of golden skulls along her waist. That, and the blood red lipstick she wore made it obvious she grieved the Knight of Kisses.
When Laenor had seen her he had mustered up a small smile, grateful for her dedication to their dear friend. He of course was sat next to his new wife, both of them red eyed and not speaking to anyone. The purpose of continuing the tournament was to distract from the horror that had unfolded in the great hall. But it seemed to only be working for the guests. Laena stuck close to her twin, seated on his opposite side as she tended to him. Her plans for seducing the Rogue Prince were now postponed. Her brother came first. Although that did not seem to stop Daemon from staring at Corlys' sea star from the back of the royal tent where he lounged on a support post and slowly sipped from a goblet of who knew what.
