For a century, the Targaryens held sway over the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros: from the arid deserts of Dorne to the icy expanses of the North, from the verdant plains of the Reach to the rugged coasts of the Stormlands. Yet, amidst the splendor of th...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
»Princess Rhaenyra?« Siveen knocked on the door to the princess's chamber. Even the door was adorned with carvings depicting the House of the Dragon symbol. She heard movement behind it suddenly, footsteps, and the sound of something being set aside, so she knocked again.
»Come in!« called Rhaenyra's bright voice from within, and Siveen slowly opened the door, careful not to spill the freshly brewed tea she carried. Stepping into the room, she was struck by its grandeur. It was at least three times the size of hers, with towering bookshelves, a bed that looked like a cloud, a seating area, and even a huge balcony offering a direct view of the city. A room made for a princess. And there she sat, on her cushioned bench, wearing a long white gown that seemed more suited for sleep, her long silver hair tied back.
»What brings you here?« the princess asked, puzzled, as Siveen set the hot tea before her on the table.
»May I?« Siveen gestured to the bench behind her, directly opposite the princess, and she nodded, still unaware of why she was here, as the two had barely exchanged a word before. In fact, they hadn't exchanged any words that Siveen could remember.
»What is this?« Rhaenyra asked as Siveen settled down, surprised at how comfortable it actually was.
»It's tea,« she explained. »I mixed it myself. The women in Volantis drank it constantly when—« Siveen paused for a moment, glancing symbolically at Rhaenyra's stomach. »In case something unwanted—«
»How do you know about that?« Rhaenyra exclaimed, startled. In that moment, as Siveen looked into her lilac eyes, she suddenly saw herself. They were both in the same situation, albeit with the difference that Rhaenyra was a princess and Siveen was not. That made the situation even more complicated.
»My brother told me about it, and I don't judge you for it, my princess,« she tried to reassure her. »I'm the last person who should.« she added, lowering her gaze, thinking of Daemon, but quickly banishing him from her thoughts. He was gone, that was what mattered.
»You won't tell my father, will you?« the princess suddenly asked, her voice barely a whisper, and Siveen quickly shook her head. Even if it were her duty to the king to tell him, she would never do so. After all, Volantis was also at stake; if someone were to harm Henryk, it could lead to war, and even the largest and oldest of the Free Cities could not withstand the dragons.
»No, don't worry,« she reassured her hastily. »But to keep him from finding out, you need to drink this. It doesn't taste particularly good, but it's not supposed to.« Rhaenyra's gaze remained fixed on her, a mixture of incredulity and apprehension flickering in her eyes, as if she harbored a suspicion of potential poisoning. Sensing her hesitation, Siveen cautiously raised the cup, allowing just the slightest contact of her lips with its rim, feeling the warmth of the steam enveloping her face before daring to take a tentative sip. A grimace contorted her features at the bitterness assaulting her palate, accompanied by the searing sensation of the liquid coursing down her throat.
