Alicent Hightower raised a bastard - The Stranger's Child.
Except she didn't.
Naenyra looked nothing like the Targaryen beauty that her father expected. She was, as her mother always wished, a Hightower at heart, and how she looked only proved it...
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Alicent wasn't wrong as she watched the young girl grow over the years, her struggle with her place in the Keep only growing day by day. There were only a handful of Maids trustful enough to be around her, tutors in a small dozen that could teach her, and friends in the courtyard to play with. A girl of six with less than a handful of friends was a poor thing to witness, especially when her dark eyes would sweep over the groups that had begun to form around her.
Her brothers, while protective, were also free to play with whomever they chose, and having chosen the bastards, it made her worry for her young girl. Naenyra had taken to being by Helaena's side at all times, feigning her own interests in bugs as she would grasp hold of a Valyrian book. She was smart and driven, always reading something or other of interest and asking when she wouldn't quite understand something in it. It made Alicent feel like she was far older than six, and far more aware of the world around her.
It's why any manner of information about her father was kept under lock and key, a choice that many would not choose to make. Servants were forbidden from mentioning his name in her presence, any messages for the Queen were to be given to her quietly in front of the children, and all members of the Queen were not allowed to engage with Princess Naenyra. It had not just been the wish of the King but of the Queen herself, she would refuse for anything to be overheard by Naenyra about why she was so hidden away.
If Nyra had noticed, she never said anything; and Alicent was relieved when her other children would uphold the same standard of secrecy around her. Even Daeron, who was almost his sister's twin, chose to keep quiet, protecting her from most of court life. But for one day in the week, the King demanded the presence of all his children bar Nyra, who would be left to entertain herself.
Rickard stood dutifully by Naenyra's side, his hands folded behind his back as he watched the young Princess. She was bored, worse than bored, in fact. The day felt long, never ending as she threw herself down on the chaise and stretched out, her dark eyes trailing along the ceiling. "Give me something to do, Rickard; if I'm to stay in these same four walls any longer, I'm sure to go insane." She drawled out, kicking her legs into the air as watching as the layers of her dress buckled and fell.
Her previous shyness with talking had ebbed away with her brother's constant teasing, and the strictness of her tutors who requested that she not just speak in Westerosi but also in Valyrian as well. Her training was far harsher in Valyrian than others, with almost all her subjects taught in the language. She sounded different from the others because of it, and while Nyra resented that, she also knew that one of them had to uphold the hard standards of traditional Valyria.
Her ever-present and loyal Knight rolled his eyes, gazing down at the young girl. "How about the library, Princess?" He offered, her head turning to shoot him a frown. "Not the library then. What about the fields?"
Nyra huffed, glancing away. "I don't want to play here, everyone leaves when I'm around." She told him gently, her hands clutching at one another. Rickard would like to disagree with the girl but even he couldn't help but see the way the children would whisper to one another and quickly vacate the premises. It was cruel of them but Nyra would take it on her chin, do her best to ignore it.
