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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No one had realised it then but Joselyn Redwyne had done something to benefit Naenyra, something that only came to blossom in the following years she was there. Rosie and Nyra stuck to one another like glue, the pair as thick as thieves as their hands would entwine with one another's, and their lips would whisper words that only they could hear. It was not often that you would find one without the other, one of the girl’s always being in the other’s chamber or the pair reading beneath the tree in the courtyard.
How Nyra had begged her aunt and uncle to allow Rosie to attend some of the classes that they forced her into, and then proceeded to encourage their wider circle of friends to join as well. It didn’t matter if it was Taralyn Tyrell one day or Margaret Ashford the next, it was always Rosie that was by her side in every single one. Enough that she was there at every feast, slowly sinking into private dinners between the two girls, and the occasional sharing of their bed where they spent the time gossiping to their heart's content.
It had been Nyra that had taken hold of Rosie’s hand that night, of having the words of Nelly Buckwell repeat over and over. “This is what sisters are supposed to be like.” She said; the pale pink gown she wore had been something of Rosie’s, and the baby blue that Rosie wore once belonged to Nyra. “They share things, and they argue,” Something the girls only did over trivial things, and easily remedied by lemon cakes. “And they spend their lives always being by one another’s side.” She uttered.
“Does that make us sisters?” Rosie asked her excitedly, the girl not having had a sister of her own but rather three brothers.
Nyra nodded excitedly, trying to contain her smile. “I think it does.” Their hands squeezed at one another’s before Rosie wrapped her arms around her and pulled her to the bed. And while Nyra did miss Helaena, she liked having someone who wanted to talk to her about everything and anything, who wanted to be by her side and tug her along to play with her.
It only made her namedays seem that more special. At the Keep, Nyra would remember well how she would beg and beg for her family to not celebrate it after that exhibition on her seventh one. How much she wanted something small and little, for it to not even be mentioned if she could help it. But the first one she had here, to celebrate her tenth nameday, was something to change her mind.
Nyra had always done well to not mention it, to not want it spoken about or to even acknowledge it; and she liked that the Hightowers hadn’t pushed her into discussing it either. But the day of her nameday, where she had woken up no different to normal with no need for excitement, she was surprised to see the feast that had been set up for her nameday.
It was her aunt that held the largest smile, holding a small parcel in hand as Hobert and Ormund sat at the table. “I tried to stop her, Nae. Didn’t seem to work well.” He called out but her aunt brushed him off, thrusting the gift into the space between them.
“You never said what you wanted, so I hope you don’t mind.” Nyra held her breath as she accepted it, a tight smile on her lips. She couldn’t offend them by telling them that she hated her nameday and any form of celebration that came with it, especially with her Aunt Ness smiling so widely at her.
