Visenya found herself enveloped in the serene embrace of the godswood, thanks to her companions, Rhaenyra and Alicent, who were deeply immersed in research for their septa. The sacred space radiated an air of solemnity as they settled beneath the ancient weirwood tree, its gnarled branches whispering secrets of the past.
"Did you read it?" Alicent's voice broke the stillness, laced with urgency.
"Of course I read it!" Rhaenyra shot back, her tone sharp but revealing an undercurrent of tension.
"When Princess Nymeria arrived in Dorne, who did she take to husband?" Visenya pressed, her curiosity burning bright.
"A man," Rhaenyra replied curtly.
"What was his name?" Alicent continued, relentless in her pursuit of knowledge.
"Lord Something," Rhaenyra muttered dismissively.
Visenya couldn't help but chuckle at the stark contrast between her own studious nature and Rhaenyra's haphazard approach. While she dutifully consumed the words presented by their septa each evening, Rhaenyra danced on the edge of procrastination, often leaving her tasks until the last possible moment.
"If you answer with 'Lord Something,' Septa Marlow will unleash her fury," Visenya warned, half-amused.
"She's quite the character when she's furious," Rhaenyra retorted, a playful glint in her eye.
"You're always like this when you're anxious," Alicent observed, her brow furrowed with concern.
"Like what?" both sisters demanded in unison, their voices tinged with indignation.
"Disagreeable. You're worried that your father's about to overshadow you both with a son," Alicent assessed, unflinching.
"I only worry for our mother," Rhaenyra declared, her voice steady yet betraying a deeper unrest.
"I wish for my father to have a son," Visenya admitted, though a twinge of resentment curled in her chest. "It seems to be all he wishes for. Yet deep down, I know I am his rightful heir, the eldest, destined for the throne. Ever since I could remember, I was heralded as the potential queen, and above all, I long to make our mother proud."
"You wish for him to have a son?" Alicent questioned, her surprise evident.
"I just want to soar through the skies atop a dragon with you, to witness the breathtaking wonders across the Narrow Sea, and to feast on cake!" Visenya laughed, her spirit momentarily lifting.
"May I join you?" Rhaenyra asked, her eyes sparkling with longing.
"Of course," Visenya nodded enthusiastically.
"I'm trying to be serious!" Alicent scoffed, her expression shifting.
"About cake? I never jest about cake!" Visenya declared, a cheeky grin spreading across her face.
"You aren't troubled about your position?" Alicent inquired, her skepticism palpable.
"I adore my position. It's wonderfully comfortable," Visenya beamed, reveling in her youthful innocence.
Alicent snapped her book shut, agitation radiating from her as she turned to leave. Visenya felt a pang of concern at her friend's quick temper, a trait she had vowed to master as a future queen.
"Where are you going?" Rhaenyra called out, her tone sharp with worry.
"Home. The hour grows late," Alicent replied tersely, her figure slipping away.
Visenya and Rhaenyra raced after her, desperation fueling their attempts to halt her departure.
"Princess Nymeria led her Rhoynar across the Narrow Sea on 10,000 ships, fleeing their Valyrian pursuers. She wed Lord Mors Martell of Dorne and burned her own fleet off Sunspear, signaling to her people that they would no longer run!" Rhaenyra teased, her spirits buoyant.
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Blooming tragic
FanfictionVisenya was always viewed as one of the perfect and most beautiful princesses in the realm, that's were here alias came from "The realms pearl" or "The realms flower" and "The realms happiness" Otto Hightower was King Viserys hand since the fall of...
