𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒, the house of the dragon.

chapter six, love comes in the form of anger.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒
- LOVE COMES IN THE FORM OF ANGER -

Visenya found herself standing on the training grounds - alone. Without Aerion who'd usually take it upon himself to neglect his duties just to spend a bit of time with her. And he would be beside her, had she informed him about her whereabouts, but Visenya found no absolute point in it.

She needed this moment of peace.

But peace didn't seem to want her.

"You were easy to find." She visibly tensed at the mere sensation of his presence and words. What was he doing here? What did he need? What did he want? Immediately, so many frantic and harsh thoughts rushed to her mind. Has he come to taunt and mock her some more? "I knew i'd find you here."

Visenya swallowed and forced a mask to appear across her features while her back continued to face her uncle. The sharp, pale blue contrast of her eyes moved to Ser Edmyn who stood across the yard, watching over her protectively. His jaw tightly clenched upon seeing Daemon so suddenly.

With a quiet and dry sniff－Visenya ran her sweaty palms down the fabric of her thick dress before slowly turning rather reluctantly to face the Rogue Prince. She had the idea that he would disappear into the city and sink himself deep within many and every whore. When she was once a young maiden, she learnt that was what her uncle always tended to do when he wanted to relieve himself of unwanted feelings.

And she was no fool. Daemon was feeling something, that she knew. She just couldn't figure out what, and she didn't want to. She had no wish or desire to know how he felt.

Especially not about her mother, or her brother, or her d－

She tried desperately to hide her discomfort, but said discomfort was obvious in her pinched expression. In the slight tremble of her legs and the deep crescent marks across her raw and pale palms.

Everyone had the assumption that she was handling the three deaths of her closest kin with ease. That was what they believed.

Yet.. she was just barely holding on.

Beneath her facade of smiles, grins, giggles, and playful complaints and whines－was fatigue, grief, emotional and physical pain.... loneliness. They were all there. The burdened and most hateful emotions which angrily boiled beneath her flesh of filth and duty. She found herself unable to outrun those feelings. She couldn't hide from them, and she was just too weak to fight.

She had no anchor, and she no longer had Aemma.

How was she suppose to thrive just like her namesake?

"I suppose Aerion suggested i'd be here." Again, Visenya swallowed a thick line of slither as her swollen and tired eyes clashed against the dark indigo ones of her uncle.

"I never once spoke to my brother." Daemon's arms remained at his side while the tip of his thumb toyed with the silver, dragon embedded ring on his right pinky. He spoke softly and calmly to his niece just as his eyes carefully observed her.

Despite the change in dress, Visenya still wore black in sight of mourning which Daemon completely understood. But unlike her, his clothing now sported the dark and unique colors of their house.