Dragon Princess || Aegon II Targaryen

𝖢𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 7

Today was a day of celebration at the Red Keep. Well, for some, at least. For the servants, it meant even more work.

Today was Prince Aemond and Princess Rhaenys' name day and to celebrate it, as tradition dictated, the royal family held a tournament.

In truth, Aemond loved it. He adored the adrenaline rush it provided—the horses racing, the knights battling and shielding themselves, and the tension hanging in the air before the shouts of glory and excitement crowned a victor. Never did he feel more alive, never did he feel more powerful and far from the pranks and tricks of his brother and nephews. Never did he feel more like himself.

In contrast, Rhaenys did not enjoy it at all. She found the whole affair utterly foolish—a bunch of grown men fighting for nothing, and usually turning it into a bloodbath when someone got frustrated with his own defeat. The euphoria of all that violence was too much for the little princess. No, she liked things more thrilling than watching people hurt each other for no reason. Rhaenys preferred the peace and tranquility of her explorations. She loved to see the city, to feel free beyond the castle walls, and, especially nowadays, to visit Jeyne's orphanage to play with Petyr and the other children.

However, no matter how much she wanted to disappear from the castle yet again, Rhaenys knew perfectly well that she couldn't do it this time.

And time had never passed so slowly and so dragged.

All the cheers, all the grunts, all the horses charging against the enemy could not make this worth her time. She couldn't bear it any longer. She just wanted to leave. And Alicent noticed her boredom. In fact, there couldn't have been a person there who didn't see it. By the Gods, every blind men in King's Landing could see it from a distance.

But, hearing the commotion in front of her, Rhaenys couldn't help but look in its direction.

A knight whose name she didn't know, but who clearly represented House Tyrell, rode his fearless horse with the determination of a thunderbolt about to strike.

On the other side was someone Rhaenys did know, as did many stated in the royal stands: Ser Harwin Strong, the Lord Commander of the City Watch. And, judging by the reaction of many, it was apparently unusual for him to participate in such events. However, Rhaenys had to admit, he was impressive. His movements were fluid and calculated, a blend of grace and power that made him appear unshakeable.

Yes, she could understand now why Criston Cole was always picking random fights with Ser Harwin. Envy, it was the name, she believed. He would never be half the man Ser Harwin was. Most of those so-called brake, unbroken and strong men wouldn't. And by the look on her older sister's face, Rhaenyra thought the same.

The Tyrell knight charged with a mighty roar, his lance aimed directly at the Lord Commander, his horse galloping at high speed. He appeared determined, confident in the force and precision of his strike and, for a brief moment, it seemed as though he would prevail. But Harwin deftly sidestepped, his own lance finding its mark with brilliant accuracy.

The precision of the strike was enough to completely unbalance the Tyrell knight, violently throwing him from his horse.

A heavy silence fell over the field as the knight crashed onto the hard earth, his fall so sudden and forceful that it tore part of his armor. The sound of the impact echoed across the field, accompanied by the metallic clang of plates colliding and then a sharp crack as the metal yielded under the force of the blow.

Everyone in the royal stands and around the field seemed frozen, fear spreading quickly at the possibility of a serious, or even fatal, injury. Young Rhaenys couldn't help but widen her eyes at the impact of the fall, instinctively gripping her older brother, who quickly embraced her, sensing her tension. It was true that she knew these tournaments could be violent—after all that was the reason she thought they were such foolish events—but she had never imagined witnessing a man lose his life.