THE LADY - Jacaerys Velaryon

xx. Queen Of Thorns

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CHAPTER TWENTY
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Q U E E N O F T H O R N S

IT WAS CUSTOMARY to host a feast when one of the great houses appears on your doorstep, especially when eight of them are residing in scattered room in the keep.

The Red Keep was supposed to be doused in decoration with food piling on plates and songs echoing off the walls. But it wasn't. Instead of a grand feats that was—how many times much I repeat—customary. A feats to represent the union between the nine great houses of Westeros.

Instead, they were having, not a feast, but a dinner. That's it. No grand declaration of union, no formidable proof of political alliances.

A dinner. A dinner with the lords and ladies of the nine great houses, and the family of the king.

Now, Daella wasn't one for flash, when she was younger she hated the grand balls that would be thrown and the inconvenient feasts that would interrupt her nap-time. She hated the people that would attend, because non of them were her age and wanted to play with her. But, she was older now. She knew of her importance, she knew that without her—or her family legacy—most of Westeros would be left to starve, without her the South would be unprotected. Daella Tyrell was an important piece—or perhaps one of the most important pieces on the board.

A ball would've been nice to at least let the king show his gratitude.

Instead, she was floating around the hallow halls of the Red Keep, draped in a black gown with gold accents, with her hair let loose and wild and the odd strand braided, waiting to be called to dinner.

She was starving, she hadn't eaten since the day before, and now she would wince at the sound of her growling belly.

"Daella." That voice. She didn't want to hear it. No, when she heard it, it made her want to claw her ears off and watch the blood pool around her. Daella turned, staring at the boy before her. His silver hair was cropped to his shoulders in a tangled mess and his smirk made her almost squirm in her spot.

She glanced him up and down before feeling her lips curl into a slight frown.

"Lady Daella." She quickly corrected, arching a brow at the audacity of the prince blocking her path.

Now, Daella didn't hate any of the royals without a reason. Sure, she hated the queen, but that was because she had tried to make Lord Hightower—her uncle, The Lord of the Reach. She hated the king, because he had been clueless in serving the kingdom and the snakes that were lodged into his family. She hated Aemond because he took away her right for true love. She slightly hated Prince Daemon because of how he left her aunt stranded, how he didn't fight for her.

Aegon had never done anything to her, in truth. In her time at the Red Keep he made harmful and inappropriate comments about her, which her young mind didn't seem to understand. Aegon had never tried to dethrone her, or take away her rights for love, or leave her aunt stranded. He was just...insufferable.

"My apologies, My Lady." He replied childishly, swaying back and forth on his feet.

Daella felt a shiver run up her spine from his tone. In truth, she hadn't thought about Aegon once while she was back at home, why would she, they barely spoke. But she could now remember the glances he had given her, the seductive smirks and his lustful eyes that would follow her every move.