Blood Of The Dragon || Daenerys Targaryen

Chapter 04 • THE REALM'S DELIGHT

Seagulls caw over skies while the Pendragon ship docked at the White Harbour, the winds blew swiftly past her dark hair, coal-colored like sifting sand through a screen, brushing the strands of her dark hair, like sweet waves behind her back.

Regally, the sun gleamed down on her slender figure, casting light on her black riding suit with scales, which reared a red and gold dragon crest upon her chest. Her hands inlaid with black gloves, her boots were also black, except for her fair skin, white as snow, her orbs lilac as lavender, and her lips red like a pomegranate. Princess Morgana was indeed the realm's delight, a beauty to behold and kill for.

Her valyrian features are patrician.

A night of the Kingsguard sits on a horse in the regal white cloak of his office. Ser Harrold Westerling, a man in his 50s, is attended by a squire, pages, and men-at-arms and a two-horse wheelhouse waits with them, emblazoned with the Pendragon heraldry.

Ser Harrold shifts in his saddle, visibly anxious to collect the King's daughter from the ship. Over a week ago, Princess Morgana had gone to DragonStone to watch her uncle Aurelius claim a dragon, alas he failed for the hundredth time, much to the happiness of the knight.

Ser Westerling still believes the targaryens are the only dragon lords suited to ride or claim a dragon, but if the gods could flip a coin, they should only grant Princess Morgana a chance to be dragon rider for she posses a meek spirit like his former late mistress: Rheanyra Targaryen.

On the other hand was her best friend, Lady Alicent Hightower, a girl of six and ten, same age as her. Brown eyes with auburn hair, beautiful and slender. The pious girl watches from the doorway of the royal wheelhouse as Princess Morgana gracefully trotts out of the ship deck.

Alicent marvels at Morgana, she seemed impressed by and envious of the power and position that her best friend has, the first born daughter of the King and she, a daughter of a second son, with no inheritance to her name.

Both girls are gradually maturing into young adolescents and the two of them were very close, the envy of other court maidens, especially her wild cousin Margaery Tyrell.

Morgana and Alicent don't see each other as best friends but sisters, inseparable duos.

"Welcome back Princess, I hope your travels was pleasant." Remarkably, Ser Harrold Westerling says with a curtly bow as he held the reins of his white horse neighing with a snort.

"Try not to be too relieved Ser, nothing was pleasant." Morgana scoffs.

"I assume the attempt failed again?" Ser Harrold tries not to jape.

"The 100th time. Ser." Morgana enunciates with a grin, as she walked past him heading to the royal wheel-house, removing the gloves from her hands. "Relieved are you not? I didn't go the Dragonpit for one week." She reminds him of her usual mischief.

"I am relieved, everytime you try to go there with the wranglers, and return, unspoiled, it saves my head from a spike." Ser Harrold speaks after her.

Morgana giggles. "Then let's hope my dreams comes to pass one day, else the spike might get both our heads Ser." She mused.

Ser Harrold laughs, shaking his head in disbelief.

Smiling at the Knights ever-serious remarks, the Princess somewhat ignores her Kingsguard, like she ignored everybody else, they always had opinions about her and her desperation of claiming a dragon, knowing fully well that her bloodline is rooted from Old Valyrian, so what could possibly be wrong if a Pendragon becomes a dragon rider?

Walking past the crew members, Morgana look on to see Alicent coming out and descending the thresholds of the wheelhouse to greet her. The Princess makes her way towards the wheelhouse to meet the Hightower who stood thrilled to see her.