In a world where power is everything and blood is thicker than water, Visenya must carve out her own path, not just as a Targaryen, but as the dragon she was born to be.
"The Forgotten Visenya" is a tale of love, loss, and the fire that burns withi...
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The city of King's Landing was a nest of unrest. The smell of smoke lingered in the air, mingling with the thick humidity that came with the late summer heat. Rhaenyra Targaryen, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms in name but queen of only a fraction of it in reality, stood in the shadow of her own throne, the Iron Throne that had once cut her, leaving its jagged scars on her palm. Now, it stood cold and indifferent to the chaos that consumed the city around it.
The news that reached her ears was grim. The Velaryon fleet, once the pride of her forces, had begun to disintegrate before her very eyes. House Velaryon, which had always been steadfast in its loyalty to Rhaenyra, now wavered. Word had reached the fleet that Lord Corlys Velaryon, the Sea Snake and master of the seas, was imprisoned in the black cells by order of Aegon II. His imprisonment had fractured their faith, and with no true leader to guide them, more than half the fleet had abandoned Rhaenyra's cause, turning their sails toward the open seas or worse, toward Aegon.
In the docks of King's Landing, where once the golden banners of the Velaryon fleet had fluttered proudly, now only uncertainty and fear remained. The sailors, once fiercely loyal to the Black Queen, were no longer to be trusted. The loyalties of those who had remained were suspect, with whispers of betrayal slipping through the alleys and taverns.
Rhaenyra's once-mighty army had dwindled, and what remained of it was now fragile, held together by little more than fear of what Aegon's wrath would bring if he claimed the city. The smallfolk, who had once chanted her name in the streets, now turned their heads and muttered curses under their breath. Rumors spread faster than wildfire, and in the hearts of the people, doubt had begun to take root. They had seen too much blood spilled, too many homes burned.
And then came the final blow that day—a tragedy that would shake the very foundations of the Red Keep.
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Queen Helaena Targaryen, the gentle sister-wife of Aegon II, threw herself from Maegor's Holdfast, plummeting to her death on the spikes of the moat below. Her death sent shockwaves through the city, rippling through the hearts of both the nobility and the common folk alike. Helaena had been a beacon of peace, a figure many smallfolk adored despite the war and bloodshed that plagued her family.
