Targaryens are known to have queer costumes, an unusual tradition in which the brother and sister wed each other in order to secure the line of succession as pure as possible. Well, it is not always the Targaryens that have such habits, who says tha...
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~129 A.C~
·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·
DRAGONSTONE The Painted Table room was filled with tension, the air thick with the weight of war as the lords argued amongst themselves. Rhaenyra remained silent, her violet eyes fixed on the map before her, fingers steepled beneath her chin. She was thinking, calculating. The realm was divided, and every decision she made from this moment forward would determine its fate.
Vellena stood beside Jace, her heart pounding in her chest. She was not used to this—to war councils and political maneuvering. Luke stood on her other side, shifting uncomfortably, his fingers tapping against his tunic. Baela and Rhaena stood close by. Daemon was absent, and though no one had spoken of it yet, Vellena could feel her mother's unease.
Then, the heavy doors creaked open, and Ser Erryk's voice rang through the chamber.
"Lord Corlys Velaryon, Lord of the Tides. Princess Rhaenys Targaryen. Lady Jocelyn Velaryon"
All heads turned toward the stone steps. Emerging from the shadows, Lord Corlys made his slow descent, leaning heavily on a cane, supported by Princess Rhaenys on one side and their daughter, Lady Jocelyn Velaryon, on the other. Despite his weakened state, Corlys carried himself with dignity, his sharp eyes surveying the room.
Rhaenyra was the first to greet him, stepping forward. "Lord Corlys."
The Sea Snake moved around the table, stopping on the left side.
"It brings much relief to see you hale and healthy again," Rhaenyra said carefully.
Corlys inclined his head. "I'm very sorry about your father, Princess. He was a good man."
Vellena saw the slight tensing in her mother's shoulders before she spoke again.
"Where is Daemon?"
Rhaenyra's fingers curled against the Painted Table. Vellena felt it before she saw it—the brief flicker of pain in her mother's expression.
"There were other concerns which demanded the Prince's attention," Rhaenyra answered.
"Mm." Corlys made a thoughtful noise but did not press further. Instead, his gaze dropped to the map. "Your declared allies?"
"Yes," Rhaenyra confirmed.
Corlys exhaled through his nose. "Too few to win a war for the throne."
