Led By Fiery Passion (currently being revised)

Part 1

"It's a girl, Princess!" the midwife announced with a wide smile, her voice trembling with excitement as she carefully placed the swaddled bundle into Rhaenyra's waiting arms.

Rhaenyra's breath caught as she looked down, utterly mesmerized by the infant nestled against her chest. The child's hair was soft and white as fresh snow, falling in faint, damp waves around her delicate head. Her eyes—when they fluttered open—were a luminous shade of blue, clear and striking like Larimar stone. And her skin, so pale and flawless, appeared almost porcelain under the glow of the chamber's hearthlight.

A rush of relief surged through Rhaenyra's aching body. She thanked the gods—silently, reverently—that the babe bore the unmistakable traits of House Velaryon. There would be no room for whispers this time. No sideways glances. No veiled accusations. Her daughter would be seen for what she was: a trueborn child of noble blood.

"I hear we have a daughter!" Laenor's voice rang out cheerfully as he entered the birthing chambers, his face lit with joy and awe.

Rhaenyra looked up, her expression softening. "Yes, we do," she replied warmly, allowing him to come forward. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to her temple before gazing down at the tiny girl she held.

Laenor reached out, and Rhaenyra gently passed the bundle into his arms. He cradled their daughter with surprising tenderness, his eyes wide with wonder.

"She's perfect," he murmured.

"Did we decide on a name yet?" he asked, glancing back at Rhaenyra with a hopeful smile.

"Aenrya," she said softly, her voice still hoarse from labor, but tinged with pride.

Laenor tested the name aloud, tasting its weight. "Aenrya... what a perfect name for an heir."

Just then, a maidservant pushed open the door, dipping her head as she stepped in. "Forgive the intrusion, Princess," she said, her voice hesitant. "But the Queen requested to see the babe."

Rhaenyra's expression tightened.

"Right now? For what reason? Laenor snapped, his smile fading into a frown. "She should come to us. This is madness—you've only just given birth!" He looked to Rhaenyra, clearly distressed.

But the princess knew Alicent's game all too well. This wasn't about civility or celebration. The Queen wanted proof—wanted to inspect the child for herself. There had already been rumors of her and Sir Harwin not long since spreading across court. Rhaenyra knew all to well, the Queen  wants to search the girl's face for what wasn't there, to feed her doubts and fuel her whispers. Rhaenyra would not give her the satisfaction of sending the child alone.

"No," she said firmly. "We'll go."

She shifted, grimacing as pain flared through her lower body. Laenor was at her side in an instant, supporting her with one arm while holding their daughter in the other. Together, they stepped out of the chamber, leaving behind the warm scent of fire and lavender, stepping into the cold, watchful halls of the Red Keep.

As they walked, heads turned. Servants and lords whispered behind gloved hands and heavy curtains. Some stared openly. It wasn't just the sight of the princess walking mere minutes after giving birth—it was the crimson trail left behind her, dark and damning on the stone floor.

She was bleeding.

Still, Rhaenyra walked.

By the time they reached Queen Alicent's chambers, her limbs trembled beneath her weight, and her breath was shallow, pained. She crossed the threshold without pause, but the moment she spotted a cushioned chair, she moved to it quickly and lowered herself with a quiet grunt, hiding her discomfort behind a tight smile.