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...
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»You are mistaken, Ser Harwin,« Siveen chuckled at Harwin Strong as he tried to guess what had driven her to leave her life in Volantis. The easiest answer would have been to blame her father, but she enjoyed making him squirm a little. He was part of the City Watch, now even the Lord Commander, yet far too courteous and kind for the brutal deeds carried out under Daemon's command. But after the prince left, a new commander was needed.
»Hm, you're not making this easy,« he replied, smiling down at her from behind his brown curls.
Nearly a whole month had passed since Daemon Targaryen left King's Landing and returned to the Vale, disappearing without a trace. And today was the wedding day of his niece, Princess Rhaenyra, to Laenor Velaryon, the son of the Sea Snake and the Queen Who Never Was.
They stood near the grand long table set for the royal family, directly opposite the entrance to the banquet hall. A wide aisle stretched out, leading directly to the King and his daughter, where guests would come to offer their congratulations.
The princess wore a beautiful white off-the-shoulder dress with golden embellishments, her hair braided and pinned up like a crown adorned with rubies. She truly looked like a queen as she awaited her soon-to-be prince consort. He would soon arrive, and together they would dine before he would ask her for the first dance, officially opening the dance floor.
Wooden tables lined the sides of the hall, seating only the highest houses to celebrate the princess's wedding, like the Baratheons, Starks, Lannisters, and even the Martells from Dorne were in attendance. The evening was just beginning, yet Siveen already had an uneasy feeling. Her brother had been incredibly nervous all night. Nearly fully recovered and back in the service of the princess, he wore his silver armor with pride once more. Every time Siveen looked at the two of them, she couldn't help but think about what had happened between them and fervently hoped it had only been that one time. Her brother hadn't told her anything more, and whenever she asked if anything else had occurred, he always assured her he had kept as much distance as his duties allowed. Yet Siveen noticed he had become increasingly restless throughout the month, spoke to her less, and sometimes even snapped at her. It was strange, as he had always been a kind soul, but she chalked it up to his guilty conscience and hoped he would pull himself together soon.
»Who do you think will be the first to drunkenly sing a song tonight?« Harwin asked, drawing her attention away from her brother. He stood in the corner, hand on the pommel of his sword, straight and vigilant, observing everything.
»Hmm,« Siveen pondered, letting her gaze wander over the nobles. »Definitely Lannister,« she said with a smirk, spotting Jason Lannister among his family, standing amidst the bustle of the other houses with his golden shoulder-length hair, characteristic of a Lannister. Sometimes Siveen wondered if the Targaryens weren't the only house with queer customs, like marrying within their own family to keep the blood of the dragon 'pure.' After all, the rare hair and eye colors had to come from somewhere, and Siveen suspected the Lannisters did the same, given how similar they all looked.
