"Beast. Tyrant. Merciless. They whisper these names behind my back. But when I say, I love you, it is not out of desire, nor out of denial. It is not for my sake at all. I love you for what you are, for what you do, for how you fight. I have witness...
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“Take this,” she said, offering Rhaenyra a candle and the stick. “Maybe not for me. But light one, for your mother. Or your aunt. Or even for yourself.”
Rhaenyra lit five candles and closed her eyes. She murmured low, her voice barely audible. “I want a home. A family. One that doesn’t shatter. I want my uncle to marry you. I want him to see me. Not as his niece. Not as a child. As someone worthy of the crown.”
Charlotte lowered her head, listening. She felt Rhaenyra’s pain like her own.
“I want him to trust me,” Rhaenyra added. “And love me for who I am.”
Charlotte gently touched her shoulder. “My own father doesn’t always understand me either. I’ve learned to speak to him in the language he knows, quiet strength. Maybe that’s what Maegor needs, too.”
Rhaenyra opened her eyes and glanced at the flames. “What did you pray for?”
Charlotte hesitated. “That we find love. True love. That the gods open the King’s eyes... to take me as his wife. That he blesses me with children, and that I can stay by your side until the end of our days.”
Rhaenyra reached out and clasped Charlotte’s hand. “Thank you.”
There was a pause. Then Charlotte spoke, voice trembling.
“Your uncle... he told me yesterday. He plans to make me Queen.”
Rhaenyra’s eyes flew wide. “What?!”
Charlotte pressed a finger to her lips, glancing nervously at the Septas who turned at the sound. “Shh... Not so loud.”
Rhaenyra leaned in. “When?”
“He said he’ll announce it soon. To the council. He... he told me it’s time.”
Rhaenyra sat back, breathless. “He told me the same thing last night. That he’s going to marry you.”
Charlotte’s mouth parted in shock. “He did?”
“He did, and I'm glad he's giving marriage a chance. This is good news,” Rhaenyra said, her voice warm. “You won his heart. I’m glad. Truly.”
A smile slowly spread between them.
“I wouldn’t have... without you.” Charlotte gripped her hand tightly. “Thank you, Rhaenyra. For everything.”
“You’re welcome.” The princess squeezed her hand.
Rhaenyra then said no words. But for the first time in weeks, a small part of her heart felt light again.
They returned to prayer, heads bowed beneath the painted gaze of the Seven. As the bells tolled again, echoing through the halls, Charlotte silently begged the gods to bless her, bless her father, and give Maegor the heart to love her, not as a consort, but as a wife, as a queen.
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