A Valyrian Heart

Chapter Nine

Baela's heart pounded in her chest as she ascended the steps of the Red Keep, her footsteps echoing through the empty corridor. She had expected to find solitude within its walls, a momentary respite from the chaos that had consumed her life. But as she pushed open the heavy doors to her chambers, she was met with an unexpected sight.

There, standing tall and imposing, was Daemon Targaryen, her father. His eyes were filled with a mix of concern and anger, and she could feel the tension in the room grow thicker with each passing second. The rumors of her nighttime adventures had reached him, and he had come to confront her. Queen Alicent stood by Viserys, Haelena, and Aemond standing by their side. It seemed the entire family was here, only Aegon was missing from the charade, he was probably off somewhere drinking himself to a stupor
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"Baela," Daemon's voice was laced with disappointment, "I have heard troubling tales of your actions. Are the whispers true? Have you been sneaking out at night, endangering yourself and tarnishing our family's name what would people say when they see you? Have you no shame?"

Baela stared at her father, her jaw clenched tightly. Daemon spoke like Baela had committed something atrocious. Like he didn't already how much riding pleased her, it was her only source id relief, neither he nor anyone else was going to take that away from her. "Father," she replied defiantly, "I am not a child to be controlled. I have my own reasons for what I do."

Daemon's face reddened with anger. "Your reasons?" he scoffed. "You were betrothed to Aegon  Baela. You are no longer the carefree little girl you were In driftmark, you are now going to be the future Queen of all of Westeros  Yet you've been gallivanting around without a care, jeopardizing everything we've worked for."

Baela's eyes narrowed, her voice dripping with resentment. "And what about what I want, Father? What about my desires and dreams? Am I to be a mere pawn in your Game of Thrones? I already told you I didn't want to marry, yet you forced an engagement on me. Now you intend to take away my freedom as well? You can't! I won't let you do this Daemon Targaryen, you can take dark sister and behead me!"

It happened too fast for her to avoid it. Daemond's hand connects with Baela's face, the impact resonating with a resounding slap. The force of the strike sends shockwaves through Baela's head, causing her to reel backward. The intensity of the blow leaves her momentarily stunned and disoriented. A sharp pain radiates across her cheek, and the taste of iron fills her mouth as her nose begins to bleed.

As the blood trickles down Baela's face, her initial surprise transforms into a mix of pain, anger, and even fear. She instinctively bring her hand up to her face, attempting to stem the flow of blood, or maybe it was to protect herself in case more hits came.

Baela's heart sank as the stinging pain from her father's slap reverberated through her entire being. At that moment, the world seemed to freeze, and the room's once familiar warmth turned cold and hostile. She stood there, her hand pressed against her cheek, feeling the warmth of her own blood pooling between her trembling fingers.

Tears welled up in Baela's eyes, blurring her vision as she struggled to comprehend the cruel reality that had shattered her illusions. How could her father, once so affectionate and proud, resort to such violence? The realization pierced her heart like a thousand shards of broken trust.

As the throbbing pain in her cheek intensified, Baela's mind raced, desperately searching for an explanation. Had she done something wrong? Had she disappointed him somehow? But deep down, she knew that no justification could excuse this act of aggression. Her father's love had transformed into something dark and unrecognizable.

Her thoughts swirled in a whirlwind of confusion, anger, and sadness. The memories of her happy childhood, filled with laughter and love, clashed violently with the harshness of the present moment. Baela's trembling hand dropped to her side, and she found herself taking a faltering step backward, distancing herself from the man who had become a stranger.