Ruin Me

Chapter Ten

"Dae!" Rhaenyra called as she finally spotted her sister at the celebratory gathering their father was hosting.

The girl turned. "Rhae!" she beamed as the two girls went barrelling into each other. "Oh, I've missed you!"

And she had. The hardest part of what Daenyra had done was being away from her sister. She had never gone on so long without her twin. It truly was as if she was without a piece of her heart, her soul, herself.

"And I you. Two months and not a word."

"I didn't have much time to write correspondences while fighting in the Stepstones," she returned as the two girls pulled away, simply gazing at their reflections. 

Rhaenyra could tell that Daenyra was proud. It filled her with pride from the tips of her toes all the way up to the ends of her hair every time she got to say that she had fought in the Stepstones, that she helped end a war. She was proud for her.

Rhaenyra was dressed in a beautiful dress with peach and gold patterning. Daenyra was dressed in a dress of pale purples and blues, her hair still held up with a dagger and Daemon's necklace still on her neck. It felt strange not to wear Shadow Fang around her hips as she had done these past months.

"You must tell me everything," Rhaenyra pressed, still holding her sister's hands.

"Only if you tell me everything about this tour I hear you're supposed to be on."

Her sister scoffed. "I endured that tour just as much as you endured leaving our uncle to fight alone in the Stepstones."

"Sounds rather horrible."

"Oh, and you do not yet know the fullest extent of it. Be glad that I love you enough to endure it as long as I did, for I would have dragged you along with me if you were here."

"Oh, I know. And I am beyond grateful for your sacrifice, sister. I would take war and crabs over a tour of marriage proposals any day," Daenyra grinned.

"No, no, no. I will not revisit this debate. You were always mother's favourite," Viserys exclaimed as he placed a hand on Daemon's arm. He faced his wife. "Our mother, she had no regard for custom or tradition, rules. Much like my darling Daenyra. Our mother would've loved her granddaughter. Both of them," he boasted.

"Rhae," Daenyra said warningly, not knowing how she would react to her father's words, of the way that he forgot about Rhaenyra for a brief moment. It was true though, he saw Alyssa Targaryen reborn in his daughter. Yet, Daenyra worried what her sister would say to both men, of whom she had been growing unfond of as of late.

"I'm just going to congratulate our uncle on his victory," she insisted.

"I'm sure you are."

"Oh, go stuff some cake in your mouth!" Rhaenyra said with a teasing grin.

"I will," Daenyra spat back as she went over to the table. She picked at a few grapes and stole a piece of cake with her hands rather than the forks. It seemed to be so long since she'd seen a spread like this, but she didn't miss it. The thought surprised her as she tugged at the neckline of her dress. It was low enough to show off her necklace, but it felt like it was strangling her.

"I saw that," came a voice and Daenyra stilled as she pulled her thumb from her mouth, sucking the icing from the digit.

"I'm not sure what you are referring to, Uncle," Daenyra replied as she spun to face him, leaning her hands back on the table.

"If you say so, Princess," he said with a small grin, dapperly dressed in robes of black and red, Targaryen colours. "So, how does the great Warrior Princess feel after her first official victory?"