✦ New Faith ✦ Aegon Targaryen

○ seven ○

◇

The morning air was thick with the scent of salt and sea as we approached the docks. The sound of gulls crying overhead mixed with the distant clamor of sailors preparing the ship. My stomach knotted as I stared at the vessel that would carry me away from everything I had ever known.

It was larger than I'd expected, its black sails billowing in the wind like the wings of some great beast, the Targaryen sigil emblazoned in crimson against the dark fabric. A reminder of the family I was about to marry into. A reminder of my future.

"My lady, the boat awaits," a servant murmured gently, pulling me from my thoughts.

I hesitated at the foot of the gangplank, my heart pounding. My mother stood beside me, her face expressionless as always, though I could feel the weight of her eyes on me. The serving girls lingered behind, all of them quietly holding my luggage, none speaking. There was an unspoken tension in the air, as if everyone was waiting for me to crumble.

With a slow, steadying breath, I lifted my chin and stepped onto the gangplank. The wood creaked beneath my feet as I ascended, each step feeling heavier than the last. I could feel the eyes of the crew on me as I boarded, but I kept my gaze forward, unwilling to meet their curious stares.

My mother followed close behind, her movements deliberate and regal, a stark contrast to my stiff, awkward steps. I glanced back once-just once-at the shore, at the castle that had been my home for as long as I could remember. The stones seemed grayer now, more distant, as if already becoming a memory.

When we finally reached the deck, a sailor in a dark cloak greeted us with a bow. "Lady Tanda, Lady Myra, welcome aboard. Your quarters are ready."

"Thank you," my mother replied curtly, her tone clipped and formal.

I didn't speak, only nodded. I wasn't sure if I could trust my voice not to crack under the weight of it all.

The ship creaked and groaned as the wind pushed against it, the sails snapping above us. I could feel the faint rocking already, the gentle pull of the sea urging us forward.

Before I could take another step, my mother's cold hand rested on my arm. "Stay strong," she whispered, her voice devoid of warmth. "The journey to King's Landing is only the beginning."

I nodded, swallowing hard as we were led below deck.

(On the boat)

The gentle sway of the boat beneath my feet is both calming and unnerving. The waves lap softly against the hull, a rhythmic lullaby that should soothe me, yet all I feel is the weight of what's to come. I stand at the edge of the ship's deck, clutching the rail as the wind tugs at my hair, pulling it loose from the careful style the serving girls had fussed over just hours before.

The open sea stretches out in every direction, vast and endless, but instead of feeling free, I feel trapped. The sky, a muted gray, mirrors my mood, heavy and uncertain.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath of the salty air. I should be excited. I should be preparing myself for what lies ahead-King's Landing, the Targaryens, the life I'd been groomed for. But all I can think about is the land I've left behind, the walls of the castle I'll likely never see again.