𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓣𝓱𝓲𝓻𝓭 𝓢𝓸𝓷

Chapter 17

The Red Keep's halls were decorated with crimson and black banners, the colors of House Targaryen, swaying softly in the evening air. Torches and chandeliers filled the grand hall with a cozy, flickering glow, creating playful shadows on the walls and highlighting the guests' faces at Princess Rhaenyra's name-day party.

Rhaenyra, wearing a deep purple gown that sparkled as she moved, stood next to her father as he spoke to the gathered nobles and courtiers. She felt a mix of pride and sadness, missing her mother, Queen Aemma, whose presence was sorely missed.

"To my beloved daughter, Rhaenyra," Viserys began, raising his goblet high. "On this day of her birth, let us remember Queen Aemma, who would have been so proud of the woman Rhaenyra has become."

The mention of her mother brought a pang of sadness to Rhaenyra's heart, but she forced a smile, knowing it was what was expected of her. Beside her, Aegon, her uncle, stood with a supportive gaze, understanding the conflicting emotions that stirred within her.

After the King's Speech, everyone enthusiastically clapped their hands before respectfully bowing to the princess. Rhaenyra approached a group of people who immediately engaged in conversation with her. Among them, some offered friendship, their son, their loyalty, and their trust.

Laughter and music echoed through the hall as guests chatted and danced. Rhaenyra skillfully dodged the group trying to catch her eye and headed straight for Aegon.

With a smirk on his face, he questioned, "Where are you headed in such a hurry?" She let out a sigh and answered, "I'm just trying to distance myself from those who only want to marry me or use me to further their own interests."

"Surely, as a princess, you must have grown accustomed to it by now," he commented, and she cast a glance in his direction. "That was before I reached the age of marriage. I am constantly receiving proposals from men old enough to be my father," she retorted.

"In the end, it is our duty as members of the Royal Family to marry and secure the future of our bloodline, Rhaenyra," Aegon stated, prompting a frown from Rhaenyra.

Aegon's face contorted into a frown upon hearing her statement. "Look at the consequences it had for my mother," she remarked, her voice tinged with resentment.

With unwavering resolve, he declared, "I will never allow any man to subject you to the same torment your father subjected your mother to. If they so desire, I will gladly remove their heads." Rhaenyra's lips curled into a grateful smile as she expressed her thanks, "I am truly grateful for your support, uncle."

With a gentle smile, Aegon reached out his hand towards Rhaenyra and inquired, "Shall we dance, Rhaenyra?" Her eyes sparkled with delight as she gladly accepted his invitation, grateful for his kind and understanding nature. As she placed her hand in his, she felt the familiar sense of security and support in his touch.

Together, they gracefully glided onto the dance floor, blending in with the other couples as they swayed to the enchanting melody of a waltz.

"You look stunning tonight, Rhaenyra," Aegon remarked softly as they danced. "Your mother would have been so proud of you."

Rhaenyra's smile softened, touched by his words. "Thank you, Uncle," she replied, her voice tinged with emotion. "I miss her every day."

They danced in companionable silence for a while, finding solace in the music and each other's presence amidst the revelry. Aegon's steady presence was a comfort to Rhaenyra, easing the sorrow that threatened to overwhelm her on this poignant day.

On the outskirts of the celebration, Otto's gaze lingered on Rhaenyra and Aegon, his disapproval evident in his expression. He muttered quietly to himself, his voice tinged with discontent.