green queen, black ace | daemon, rhaenyra and vaegon

xix. the blacks, the blues and the crimson queen

DESPITE HER DARK HAIR, Ceryse Hightower looked every inch a Targaryen Queen.

She had directed her Ladies to dress her in a gown the same shade as fresh blood, the material runched and flowing beneath her waist, but sinching in tightly above the waist, laced up from her waist to the underneath of her breasts with laces a shade darker than the dress itself. Her breasts themselves were covered tightly with the same blood-red material, the coverage ending just below her collar bone, where the dress was held up by two thin straps. Then, the dress left her shoulders bare before continuing with sleeves over her upper arms to wrists, the material draping down to her legs. Her inner sleeves were made of black lace oppose to the same red, acting as a sharp contrast to the rest of the dress.

The Queen had directed Lady Saoris Tarly to leave her hair flowing down her back, placing a gold chain around the top of her head, a large, dazzling ruby hanging down from it between her brows.

Let this remind her sister that Otto had made Ceryse the Targaryen Queen just as he seeked to make Alicent the Lady of the Blues, and just how quickly their father might turn on her too.

"You may go and prepare yourself for the feast now, Lady Saoris," Ceryse told the other girl. "Thank you for remaining."

Lady Saoris bowed her head. "My Queen."

Ceryse watched her lady leave, who she liked well enough but not so much as strong-willed Lady Johanna, before carefully arranging her dress so she may sit in her armchair without creasing it.

She wondered how she should time her appearance, after all, the King had given her no indication as to when he may arrive nor had the Velaryons.

A knock sounded on her door, and Ceryse's musings were answered.

Outside the chamber door stood three dragonriders - Princess Rhaenyra, with her fist still raised from knocking and a smile plastered upon her face; Prince Daemon, sulking behind the Crown Princess looking for all the world like he'd been dragged forcibly to her door, and Prince Vaegon, whose neutral expression was marred with the brief flicking up of his lips in amusement when Ceryse raised a brow at the ragtag bunch of blondes before her. He quickly schooled it, however, staring at her with frustration. She also could have sworn his eyes wondered up and down her dress, but she must have been mistaken.

Ceryse did not know what she could have done to upset Vaegon so, but by the end of the night she was determined to find out. For now, she simply watched them.

The three were all dressed in the same shade of glossy black, the dark colour only serving to emphasise their Valyrian features - the silver-gold hair, porcelain skin, and shining, purple eyes. The two Princes' clothing matched somewhat, the material on each mimicking that of dragon scales.

The Princess Rhaenyra, meanwhile, could be described as nothing but a dark beauty come to life. Glossy, sequinned material imitating dragonscales on her shoulders, a tight, onyx-jewelled bodice and a fabulous dark, Lys-styled headdress.

The Queen was glad that she at least complemented their outfits with the dark, lace inside of her sleeves. After all, it would do her no good entering the feast hall looking like an outsider within her married House.

"Ceryse!" Rhaenyra crowed pleasantly, moving forward to thread her arm through the Queen's. "You look truly beautiful this evening. I thought we might all walk to the hall together. After all, you are not well acquainted with Prince Daemon, are you?"

The Prince grew a mocking smile. "I wouldn't say that, Princess. After all, the Queen once gave me her favour in a tourney."

"Did you?" Rhaenyra questioned with furrowed brows, her voice almost jealous.