✶|𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘌𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘋𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘺|✶ 𝘈𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘯 𝘐𝘐𝘐 𝘛𝘢𝘳𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘺𝘦𝘯

✶𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 48✶

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Golden Eyes

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✯Serena's pov✯

Year 134 A.C

Westeros

The Tourney Grounds, King's Landing

The day was unusually pleasant in King's Landing. 

For the still-cool season, the sun warmed the tourney grounds north of the city walls, filling the air with a gentle heat that made the celebration of Prince Viserys' return all the more welcoming. 

The stands were already beginning to fill, people murmuring, laughing, and exchanging gossip, their voices rising together in a lively hum as they awaited the jousts.

Serena and Aegon sat in the royal seats, cushioned thrones placed within a sheltered pavilion slightly elevated above the noble stands, granting them a perfect view of the lists. 

To their left, the returning prince and his wife occupied smaller chairs of honor. 

Viserys leaned forward with childlike anticipation, eager for the sight of armored knights and their powerful steeds thundering into the field, while Larra Rogare seemed far more concerned with the state of her nails and the sparkle of her jewelry, whispering idly with her ladies.

"Your Grace, do not forget the opening words of the tourney." Came Lord Peake's voice from behind the royal thrones. 

The King's Hand stood among the cluster of advisors and councilmen seated slightly to the rear...

Grand Maester, a few lesser lords, and retainers who formed a quiet, watchful backdrop. 

At the far end of the pavilion, were the guards and servants that lingered, ever attentive to the needs of their betters.

"I will not forget, Lord Peake. You may rest easy." Aegon murmured in a flat, cool tone, sparing him a single glance over his shoulder before turning his eyes back to the lists.

The air between the royal couple was still strained. 

Like everything within the Red Keep, the gossip clung to them like a curse, whispers of the stubborn child-queen, obsessed with dragons, who had insulted her young husband into releasing a wild beast upon the realm. 

It had been days since Dreamfyre had vanished into the clouds, leaving no trace, no sighting, no word across Westeros.

Serena felt a gentle tug at her sleeve. 

She turned her head slightly, finding Rowena fussing with the fall of her gown, smoothing the fabric as if to shield her queen from the sharp eyes of court. Serena's lips curved into a fleeting smile. 

"Thank you." She murmured softly, her voice nearly drowned by the hum of the crowd.

The movement caught Aegon's attention. For a heartbeat, his deep violet eyes rested on her, unreadable, before sliding back toward the field.

Her ladies had gone to great lengths to make her a true queen today. 

Serena's dark chestnut hair had been woven into two slender braids drawn back into a low knot, fastened with a golden pendant that glimmered in the sunlight.