green queen, black ace | daemon, rhaenyra and vaegon

xiii. hand of the king

"WHAT ARE THESE?" Ser Otto Hightower inquired as his second daughter lay down two letters, written in fine cursive, upon his desk.

"My invitations," Queen Ceryse responded simply. "For the Ladies-In-Waiting. The King agreed to permit me two more."

The Hand of the King quickly scanned to contents, a displeased scowl taking over his face. "Johanna Westerling and Saoris Tarly? Neither of them are from Great Houses."

"No," Ceryse agreed, "but outside of the Golden Three of Lannister, Tarbeck and Reyne, the Westerlings are the wealthiest house in the Westerlands. Their coffers would outnumber the Hightowers and Florents combined. And though the Tarlys are not a Great House, they have the largest standing army in the Reach."

"And yet neither girl will make as good a match as a daughter from a Great House," her father disagreed.

And so, Ceryse gave a helpless shrug. "I could not choose a lady from a Great House. The Princess also requested she have more Ladies join her - she has taken all the ladies of the Great Houses bar Lady Lia Tyrell and Lady Tya Lannister. Bringing Lady Lia into my household would be of no advantage as I already have Loren, and Lady Tya is said to be... in a delicate condition courtesy of Lord Rodford Reyne. I suspect we shall be invited to a wedding joust soon."

The Hand could hardly argue with her logic, yet his expression still grew furious at finding out that the Princess Rhaenyra was pressing a political advantage by way of her Ladies.

"How on earth did that girl think to take on more Ladies?" He questioned, voice hard. "She has no political experience, unless you count pouring wine into goblets."

"You said to me once that Lord Lyonel Strong and Lord Corlys Velaryon were not actively against the Princess' ascension, so perhaps they said something. Or perhaps even Princess Saera when she visited," Ceryse supplied, as if trying to be helpful.

Her father looked at her with distaste. "Get out."

Gladly, Ceryse thought, longing to tell him how he could not treat a Queen this way, but her father would hardly care. He had slapped her while she bore the title of Queen before - and if she went to the King, he would merely see it as a family matter.

So, Ceryse simply left, glad that her assistance of the Crown Princess would go undiscovered for now.

On her way out, the dark-haired Hightower found her elder sister awaiting entry to their father's office.

It had been over eighteen months since Ceryse had let slip to the Princess Rhaenyra that Alicent had known of their father's plans, and yet still the older girl would not speak to her.

Unwilling to put herself through the rejection, the Queen simply carried on walking past her sister. She missed the way that Alicent's dark eyes caught longingly onto her back.

There was no time for her to follow her younger sister, however, for she was admitted swiftly to her father's office.

"Alicent," he greeted, barely looking up from a missive from the Westerlands, who were complaining about Ironborn raids. "How did you find Lord Lyster Lannister?"

From the corner of his eye, he could see the girl furiously picking at her nails. When she finally spoke, her voice was small. "You can't mean to make me marry him, father? His sons are over five years older than me, his daughter my age. I-,"

"Your little sister has married a man with a daughter her age, and the King is only a few years my junior. I did not see you objecting to that," Otto spoke blandly, paying his daughter little attention as he wondered what on earth the Kennings expected him to do against House Greyjoy.