THE LADY - Jacaerys Velaryon

iii. A descion is a descion

DAELLA LOOKED UP at her aunt in astonishment as the Lannister woman held a very heavy glare towards the Queen when she came waltzing into their fasting area.

The women dressed in green stared at the two with an apprehensive smile, although the nervousness was more towards Cyrelle than the girl dressed in blue beside her.

Daella stared at the queen, her eyes wide. She thought she was beautiful, dressed in glimmering greens and black, her hair flawlessly tied upwards, and a golden star of the Seven hanging from her neck.

Much like her own, except a lot larger.

"I was wondering whether you both would like to join us for breaking your fast, prehaps?" A glimpse of hope resided in her tone, clasping her hands together in front of her.

"Perhaps." Cyrelle drawled out. Her lips twitching when noticing the queen's smile dropping into a frown.

"It's not up to me." Her aunt said once more, turning her sharp eyes towards her niece who was midway stuffing her face with a chocolate tart, freezing when noticing the new found attention upon her.

Setting the tart down, her eyes turned wide. Why must she do this? She hated when her aunt did this, forcing her to make the decision. Daella knew deep down it would benefit her in the future, making decisions herself—although they would be much more important than the offer currently held above her.

But a decision is a decision. And making the wrong choice in the future could lead to something more grave then upsetting the queen about their absence at breaking their fast.

Clearing her throat, she swallowed thickly. Glancing at her aunt for guidance, but meeting nothing but a passive stare. No guidance would be given today. She then looked at the queen, the auburn haired woman drumming her fingers together as she looked at the girl impatiently.

Impatiently, the queen was getting irritated. She was upsetting the queen.

Daella couldn't say no to the queen.

"It would be lovely to join you." Chocked out the young lady, grimacing when the queen's smile returned once more, almost like it had never disappeared.

"Wonderful! We'll see you in mere moments." Said the woman before practically bouncing out the room, her dress swaying behind her elegantly.

Daella sighed, slumping into her chair as she scowled at the amused look her aunt was giving her. "I hate when you do that."

"I'm fully aware." Cyrelle said, lauging heartily before gathering her skirts and making her way towards the door.

That's how the two women ended up being seated at the royal breakfast table, Cyrelle sat between Princess Rhaenyra and the queen, obvious tension being held between the three that made the room thick and unbreathable.

And Daella was sat between Prince Aemond and Prince Jacaerys, the two blushing furiously when the girl in blue sat down next to them and smiled kindly.

"Daella," The Queen— Alicent, she asked Daella to call her— asked from across the table, placing her fork down slowly as she looked at the girl in curiosity. "How is your father?" She asked politely.

The young Tyrell woman was shocked by the question, not many ask her about her father, most seem to forget he even has a child at all. Most seem to forget her father is alive most of the time.