The Unburnt

Chapter 3 - Bleeding Star

Visenya Targaryen

I watched how my older sister Rhaenyra followed our Septa's orders as to how we shall carry ourselves as Princesses. Today's matters involved how to act around in court, how to bow, and speak of various themes that were to cater the pleasantries of small talk, how to sit properly, how to drink and many more things that my small heart found endearing to learn as such. I wished to be a proper Princess and wife, my thoughts swimming with so many possibilities. All our Septa's words engraved upon my brain, folding my hands neatly in my lap, my spine stood straight, my chin slightly pointing up as I looked at Rhaenyra who wished to be anywhere but here.

"Septa Marlow, have I proceeded correctly?" A child's soft voice breaks the silence in the chamber while my eyes train on our Septa. She looks at me, carefully scrutinizing my posture only for her to look up and down and give a curt nod in my direction.

"Rhaenyra perhaps you should be more considerate in your attempts, you are to be the future Queen. Chin up, fold your hands, right atop of left, roll your shoulders-" Our Septa instructs my older sister and I fight the urge to slump my shoulders as once again my right doings aren't appreciated or validated anyway. I gulp and continue listening, as during the course of the day we move through various stages of how our behavior at court shall be reflected.

"Now, after we have read, studied about the book 'Ten Thousand Ships' about Nymeria's story and the Rhyonar Migration, who has she married --Septa drawls out-- to succeed in the union and fortification of the scattered Dornish land?" Septa Marlow asks as she looks at Rhaenyra.

I fidget in my seat, already knowing the answer to which proceeding to raise my hand with a smile on my face, eager to speak the information we have learned. Septa Harlow ignores me but my hand doesn't move as my small voice carries my words, softly making notice that I could answer. Septa throws me a look that is to not be discussed, the act forging me to lower my hand upon such affliction. My throat bobs as I swallow, my eyes drawn to my sister who scoffs.

"Lord Something?" she says rather bored, not even a little intrigued by how Nymeria fled the Conquest of the Valyrian Freehold and their Dragons upon the cities along Rhyone River. My young self found Nymeria as a valiant woman and honorable, wanting her people not to fear another house and seeking to find a place for them to flee and live freely. Septa scolds Rhaenyra about her lack of attention and knowledge, then turns at me and nods for me to say the right answer.

"Nymeria wed Lord Mors Martell and unified what we know of today as the Kingdom of Dorne," my voice carried out perfectly the answer and Septa seemed somewhat pleased until she opened her mouth to speak:

"Princess Rhaenyra you are to be Queen, these are important lessons in the History of your House and of the Realm you will reign over, you must know the ins and outs as it will offer you the insight of how to proceed if you were to find your Kingdoms in such estate."

The rest of the evening passes in a blur, along with many other evenings that turn into weeks, into months. If it were not for our uncle Daemon who would jest about Septa Marlow and her stories that served little for our duties that we would have to fulfill in the future, I would think I was trapped in a nightmare. Although his comments would be considered insolent and tactless, he praised me for my memory and desire to absorb all the knowledge laid out before me, conveying that such aptitudes are fit for a Princess like myself.

Today I decided of my own accord not to attend Septa Marlow's lessons as my feet carried me to my mother Aemma's chambers. The guards stationed at her doors let me in, my steps echoing off of the silent walls, some rustling going in her bath chambers. I sat on one of the armchairs on the balcony as I looked down at the landscape of Kings Landing, its twisted streets and common houses, filled with the chitter-chat of life. My mind replayed one of my recent evenings with uncle Daemon: