green queen, black ace | daemon, rhaenyra and vaegon

xiv. the suffering of one

IT WAS AS IF CERYSE HAD GREYSCALE, for all the effort the Princess Rhaenyra put into avoiding her.

Of course, the effectiveness of such efforts were greatly diminished when the King insisted they share a carriage on the way to the tourney, one for the wedding of Lord Rodford Reyne and Lady Tya Lannister.

Drawn onto the side of their respective mistresses, Lady Laena Velaryon and Lady Meda Tully also engaged in a stand off, refusing to so much as blink as they observed one another.

Of course, Lady Meda's fanatic devotion was no match for the firepower of the eldest Velaryon child.

"How is Syrax?" Ceryse questioned, desperately attempting to break the tension.

"Well, your grace," the Princess answered coldly, and the Queen wilted.

She adored the friendship herself and Rhaenyra had been growing, and yet she could understand the Princess' coldness.

Ceryse had been becoming her friend, yet it was her actions, her child, that could be used to push Rhaenyra from the position she had never asked for, yet come to embrace.

The Queen could not fault her for that. She had lost her mother, her friend, her father, her uncle to exile and what she had left was her position - Rhaenyra was just scared.

But Ceryse was too.

She was not even six and ten yet, and already she was pregnant with a third child of a man she had never wanted to marry, who gave her no choice as to whether or not she wanted to bear further children.

Ceryse was terrified of how to look after her girls, to make sure they did not receive the same fate. She was terrified of what her father might do, what Prince Daemon, who clearly coveted the throne, might do if she bore a son. And, the fear that haunted her every moment, she was terrified of a fate like Queen Aemma's, butchered in her childbed leaving Alyssa and Viserra alone like Rhaenyra was now.

And so, Ceryse determinedly tried to meet Princess Rhaenyra's eyes, her own earnest. When the other girl would not look at her, Ceryse decided to begin speaking regardless.

"I shall pray for a daughter as beautiful as her sisters," the Queen stated meaningfully, glad when the Princess finally did glance her way. "Though, should it be a boy, I know that he will grow to love and respect his eldest sister, and that he shall be raised as a true Targaryen."

Not a Hightower, was what Ceryse left unspoken, not a threat to you or your ascension. My children will not be your enemies.

Rhaenyra was bright enough to understand her meaning, even if she did not look entirely convinced.

"The Princess is tired, my queen," Lady Meda Tully simpered, laying a hand on Rhaenyra's arm, "perhaps conversations should halt for a while."

Ceryse bristled at her interruption, and even more so at the touch. "I think it might be you who needs rest, Lady Meda. I do believe your under eye is becoming quite dark. Are you not sleeping well? I understand it must be hard to see to the tasks of such an esteemed princess. We could always invite one of your cousins to replace you."

Lady Meda went silent at that, while Rhaenyra glanced at her with slight surprise.

In contrast, Ceryse could hear Laena's snort covered up by a cough at her side, and fought the urge to kick the other girl.

Instead, she just leant back against the side of the carriage and attempted not to look like she was sulking.

Queens did not sulk.