Stelsa, the girl crafted from the broken leftovers from the Gods, is far from the expectations of a normal lady. Her father, Aaeron Meryls, and her uncles sought to train her in the way of the blade. Many whisper about her origin - is she bastard li...
"But once this book closes, very little will REMAIN THE SAME."
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THE WAVES CRASHED against the stones of Dragonstone, drowning out the sounds of Vermax's wings slicing through the air. The young dragon was temperamental and restless, much like his rider. Rhaenyra watched as her eldest swooped higher into the clouds before letting Vermax plummet back towards the water below. She had never been as adventurous as those two were. Rhaenyra and Syrax enjoyed racing through the clouds, but she never willingly sent her dragon plummeting towards the ocean's floor. It was a thrill Rhaenyra had never sought.
Perhaps it was because she found it elsewhere when she was his age.
Rhaenyra took a deep breath — inhaling the salt of the sea that met the stones below in large waves. Her gaze lingered on Jace in the distance upon his dragon, gliding across the open sea almost in search of something or someone. There was little doubt in Rhaenyra's mind that her son had begun to feel the absence of Baela in the recent weeks. He had sought companionship from the girl and he had found it, but their duties had caused them to settle in different places.
That was a feeling Rhaenyra was all too familiar with as she looked upon the dagger in her hands. She nearly jumped from her own flesh when she felt the large hands of her husband meet her, coming to wrap around her frame and press against her swelling belly. "You are not casted to bed?" Daemon teased in her ear as he leaned his chin upon her shoulder, looking down at where his youngest child resided.
"It would seem our child is merciful today." Rhaenyra told him as she leaned her head against his own. One of his hands moved to encompass her hands that held the dagger. "...It has been so long and I shed my grief a long time ago, but I would be lying if I told you I did not miss her." Rhaenyra told her husband who hummed softly as he moved to stand tall, coming to stand beside her and lean against the stone fence.
"Do you plan to tell them?" Daemon questioned as he looked over to find Jace returning from his flight with Vermax.
Rhaenyra frowned at the question as he moved to slide the dagger back into her hair. "And ruin what little happiness they have found? My sons have only just begun to find their place here. Who would I be to disrupt that?" Rhaenyra questioned sharply, making Daemon sigh. "How would you have felt not knowing Ilya wed? You cared for Ilya similarly to how Jace cared for that girl once before." Daemon turned to lean his back against the stone as Rhaenyra moved a few paces away. The wind blew her platinum hair back, a few strands sticking to her face and tickling her skin.
"Our circumstances were different." Rhaenyra denied as she turned to face her husband again. Daemon almost seemed bored of the conversation as he gazed upon her, his lips slanted into an almost straight line as his brows were lowered on his brow. All he would need to do was yawn. "Come. Let us prepare for dinner." Rhaenyra changed the subject, making Daemon shake his head.
