After a forbidden night with Ser Criston Cole, Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen is forced by her father, King Viserys, to drink the moon tea and protect her honor. To shield her image further, she weds Ser Laenor Velaryon, and together they move to Drift...
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Present Time
Red Keep, King's Landing
Laughter filled Dahlia's chambers — the kind of bright, unrestrained sound that hadn't been heard within the Red Keep in years.
The fire crackled merrily in the hearth, casting warm light across a scene that might have seemed impossible to anyone else: princes and princesses, wizards and witches, dragonlords and commoners, all seated together in easy disarray.
Cups of wine and tea were scattered across tables. Someone — probably Fred or George — had charmed the pastries to float in slow circles overhead. Hermione tried to swat them back down while Ron insisted it was "harmless fun."
Dahlia watched it all with a half-smile, leaning comfortably against a velvet cushion. Aegon was already deep in conversation with the twins, his usual laziness replaced by boyish curiosity.
"So," he said, squinting at George's wand, "you're telling me you can just point that thing and make someone fall over?"
"Only if you say the words right," Fred replied.
"And if you really mean it," George added.
Aegon grinned. "Can you show me?"
Hermione sighed. "Absolutely not."
"Come now, Granger," Ron said, smirking. "He's royalty — can't deny the man a demonstration."
"I can, and I will," Hermione snapped, snatching Ron's wand before he could prove his point.
Across the room, Luke and Jace were trading jokes with Ginny and Neville while little Joffrey sat on Luna's lap, staring up in wide-eyed wonder at the sparks she made dance from her fingertips. Baela and Rhaena, seated near the fire, whispered and giggled as they watched it all unfold.
And, impossibly, sitting among them — almost relaxed — were Aemond and Helaena.
Helaena was perched beside Luna and Rhaena, her silvery hair glowing in the firelight. "Do all your spells come from... words?" she asked softly.
"Some from words," Luna answered, "some from will, and some from wanting very badly for something to change."
"That's lovely," Helaena murmured, her fingers tracing the rim of her cup as if memorizing the thought. For the first time in a long while, she looked truly present — her eyes alive, her lips curved in a gentle smile.
Aemond, meanwhile, sat slightly apart from the chaos, his posture as precise as a drawn blade — but his gaze was not distant. It was fixed on Dahlia.
"You command Balerion like no one I've seen," he said quietly, once the noise dipped enough for his voice to carry. "He moves when you move, as though your thoughts are his."
