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My existence is a scandal -Oscar Wilde
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As sunlight filtered through the small window, Maella stirred from her dreams of endless blue horizons. She blinks awake, taking a moment to register where she is- in the same thin cot she had slept in for nearly two decades at the orphanage.
But something is different about this morning. It takes her a beat to realize why, before a slow smile breaks across her face. Today is Maella's name day, and her tenth at that. Most girls from the shadowcity are long wed by now, but my color of eyes and nicknames had spared her such obligations.
She gets dressed, awaking some of the other girls in the room. She doesn't care that they're mad at her, nothing can ruin today. At breakfast, Matron Myla smiles warmly.
"Happy birthday, Maella."
"Thank you, Matron." She says, giving her a hug. She pulls back to go to the table to break her fast, feeling ravenous. At the table, Maella sits alone. She always sits alone. She guesses no one really likes to sit next to a Targaryen bastard. Her fingers push bread between her lips, and her throat swallows. Milk is poured for her. She drinks it.
They're not treated differently than any of the other orphan children here on their birthdays. They don't get special things either like new toys or special food. It's just the same day as before. But today, Myla says there's something special for Maella waiting in her private chamber and Maella is all too excited.
The glow of moonlight guides her steps toward Matron Myla's chambers late that night. When the elder woman had summoned her, she knew it was time for her to give Maella her gift. Of course, Myla had to do it at night do the other kids wouldn't get jealous and try to steal whatever she gives Maella away from her.
"Come inside with me, child. I've something special to show you." Maella finds Myla standing solemnly by the window, gazing up at the stars and gesturing her closer. "The babe I took in all those years past was no ordinary orphan. Your features alone betray the blood that runs through your veins-that of Aegon and his dragon riders," Myla explains.
Mella's eyes grow wide that Matron admits it. Maella's always known she is a Targaryen. As Matron said, her features betray her blood. But she had never thought that Matron would ever reveal this to her. Maella just thought that Matron would keep it underneath her tongue until her death bed or something.
"Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen is your mother. For her safety and your own, it was deemed you must be hidden away from the intrigues of King's Landing. But now, on the cusp of womanhood, I believe you are ready to claim your heritage."
Maella struggles to take it all in. A princess? No mere shadowcity girl after all. Yet Myla is not done. "Tomorrow, you shall depart east. An ally of your mother's house will take you into their protection at Pentos, where you may rediscover the destiny awaiting your dragon blood across the Narrow Sea."
