His Love |Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader|

Part Eighteen

Author's Note: Sorry for blue balling you for the past two weeks, but we're finally at the long-awaited feast for Aegon's 20th birthday! I hope my kitty meow meow gets everything he wishes for. Thank you so much for sticking with me through 18 chapters and counting! Y'all have no idea how much it means to me when I see every comment, vote, or notification regarding this story. It always makes me so happy. :)

Chapter Warnings: Ableism, implied sex slavery.

"scream 

so that one day a

hundred years from now

another sister will not have to dry her tears 

wondering where in history 

she lost her voice."

- Jasmin Kaur

You were in the guest chambers, readying for the feast that concluded this week-long celebration. The days had been daunting, anxiety and hardship looming over you like a cloud covering the morning sun. You hoped the future held a more effortless and less taxing light, but your sense made you believe otherwise.

Fiora and Dyana took to bathing you, assuring your flesh had no speckle of dirt or sebum, inspecting each limb, then scrubbing with a floral soap imported from Yi Ti. They changed the typical lavender body oil you wore to a sweet and uplifting scent of Port Wine Magnolia for the special occasion, the candy-smelling flowers that were one of the many planted in Aegon the Conqueror's Garden. Jeyne sorted your attire, holding pieces of different golden jewelry to the sparkling cider of embroidered fabric that was your dress.

It was not your usual color choice, finding comfort with your family's statement reds and blacks. But tonight was not about Houses and the game of thrones you constantly played. It was only an evening meant for you to unwind, perhaps indulge more in food and wine, and dance until your feet bled.

You were drained from the daytime already, desiring to crawl under your refreshing cotton blankets and sleep until your servants woke you in the morn.

Jeyne hardened your struggle with consciousness as her gentle movements in your hair made you relax further, leaving your black tresses in the same underlying style from before but braiding it elegantly and sticking twinkling Aurelian pins to hold the thickness together.

The three ladies ushered you out to the Great Hall, escorting you until you heard the waves of laughter and the hum of music. The tall oak and bronze doors were left open for the many entering and exiting guests, chuckling in their expensive and different-colored outfits, each aiming to display their wealth to those around them. Two guards stood on each side of the frame, hands hanging stiffly at their sides.

The fare had yet to be served, but the small group of musicians in the corner played a spirited tune for the people dancing and clapping between the rows of long tables, a substantial pile of gifts just out of view. You wondered if Aegon was asked for input on this. You were sure if he was that there would be much fewer male servants working tonight and more women as you took an open seat closer to the royal family.

You assumed that you would be given a place at the high tableland with them since you were also a royal, but every chair was taken though there was plenty of room to fit more. No doubt a detail Queen Alicent enforced to slight your faction of uninvited Targaryens and further plant the seeds of their secession in the court's mind. Everything with the Hightowers was carefully planned and crafted to the final minute detail. You were zany to think tonight would be any different.