Bronze Beauty | Daemon Targaryen

A Small Rebellion

Diana sighed as she fiddled with the sleeves of her dress, bored out of her whits while she and her family waited for the royal procession to arrive. Ever since the family had received word from Queen Alysanne a moon ago that the royal family was interested in visiting Runestone and arranging a possible match between the younger Prince Daemon and Rhea Royce, Heir to Runestone, the castle had been abustle with preparations.

Fighting the urge to fiddle with her hair, the many pins and flowers within its opulent styling making her scalp itch, she looked to her right, where Rhea stood proudly at her father's side in a vibrant bronze dress with black accents. If she didn't know her sister so well, she would have thought her the picture of tranquillity. But, unfortunately for Rhea, she did know her and saw the apprehension her older sister was trying to hide.

With every pick of her short nails against her nail bed, Rhea Royce was one minuscule step closer to losing her calm, collected facade, probably leading her to run screaming from the yard and into the woods to hide. No doubt followed by her close confident Beatrice Belmore, the younger sister of Jon Belmore, who served as her ladies' maid. Those two were always together, even when Rhea dragged the more fashion-sensible girl into the woods to kill squirrels for target practice.

Things between the sisters had not improved in the two years since their ill-fated hawking trip. If anything, they froze in place, a constant cycle of snide remarks followed by sullen ignorance of the other's existence. For two years, this continued as the girls aged and became of age, Rhea seven and ten, Diana six and ten. Both girls had grown into striking young women, if not for different reasons. Rhea was known as the Heart of Runestone, with her outgoing attitude and aptitude for leadership, while Diana's beauty didn't go unnoticed by her grandfather's many bannermen.

Diana knew that their father had been contemplating multiple marriage pacts for each of his daughters, which brought them to today when the royal family would show off the younger Prince Daemon as a possible suitor for Rhea's hand and future consort.

Diana was pulled from her thoughts when a loud, distant whistle-like shriek filled the air. Looking around, she watched in awe as all of the nearby animals began to panic; horses stomped their hooves and shrieked while the hounds in the kennel howled their discontent as a shadow fell over the keep.

Looking up, her eyes widened, and her mouth gaped as a red dragon flew over the keep so low that, for a moment, she feared it would hit one of the high towers. But, thankfully, its long, almost serpent-like frame was flexible and, aside from hitting a flagpole with its tail, sent a banner with her family's sigil on it flying.

Caraxes, a voice in her head supplied, no doubt remembering the famous dragon's name from her many hours reading Targaryen histories. He was first ridden by Prince Aemon Targaryen, now by Prince Daemon, son of Prince Baelon.

The sound of bugles blaring and the gates opening had her spinning back around, back straight, as the Royal Procession rode in. Armoured knights with white cloaks came first on massive steeds, followed by enormous wheelhouses with Targaryen banners painted black and red. However, what pulled her attention was the man in black armour with the dragon helm; his hair was so white it looked like gleaming silver from where she stood across the yard.

Her family stood tall in the face of such unapologetic wealth, in their finest garb, their keep well prepared for royal visitors. The mystery man, who she now belatedly realized must be the famous Prince Baelon, second son to King Jaehaerys, dismounted his horse as gracefully as possible in his ornate armour. The handsome man stepped forward, eyes warm and searching as he stared at the Royce family, one at a time.

When he didn't say anything, Diana was confused until one of the Kingsguard stepped towards the largest wheelhouse and opened it to assist a beautiful, older woman out of it. Her black and red dress sparkled slightly in the early afternoon sun, matching the many gems and jewels hanging from her neck and wrists.