Swordandsilk Stories

THE KINGDOM OF CAELRITH WAS BUILT ON BLOOD. And Alan Drystan knows it better than anyone. At seventeen, he watched his brother swing from the gallows for the crime of stealing a single drop of water. Now, rage is the only thing pumping through his heart. When the ruthless rebel faction The Wolves of the East offers him a chance at revenge, Alan doesn't hesitate. His mission? Kidnap the one thing the king loves more than power. His daughter: Princess Juliet Diane Velthorn. One moment, she's dancing at her velvet gold drapped garden ball, the next-she's thrown over the shoulder of a boy with murder in his eyes. "Welcome to the real world, Your Highness." But Caelrith's cracks run deeper than either of them know. Secrets slither in the palace halls. Traitors hide behind silk smiles. And not all monsters wear masks. Some kneel for her father (Trigger warning. It has themes of loss ,hardship and survival and mild to moderate violence that might be sensitive to some readers) ⚠️ ORIGINAL WORK DISCLAIMER ⚠️ DO NOT copy, repost, translate, or adapt any part of this book without my written permission. DO NOT claim my characters, plot, or dialogue as your own. Plagiarism is theft. Violators will be reported to Wattpad and legal action may be pursued. Want to share? Use Wattpad's official "Share" button only. Thank you for respecting my creativity! 💙

They say the dragon has three heads. The red dragon on black-the banner of House Targaryen-has always borne three heads. And the tales we know? They tell us of two. There's Daenerys Targaryen, the exiled princess who rose from the ashes of her husband with three dragons and a spine of Valyrian steel. She conquered cities, broke chains, and ruled hearts-only to be destroyed in the arms of love. And then there's Jon Snow-or rather, Aegon Targaryen, son of Rhaegar and Lyanna Stark. The by-product of rebellion. The hidden heir. The reluctant king. The man who killed his own queen. A Stark raised in silence. A Targaryen bathed in tragedy. They say the gods flip a coin for every Targaryen born. One side, greatness. The other, madness. And this generation? They say the coin only ever landed on madness. But what if there was a third head? No, not Viserys. His ghost doesn't belong in the future. I speak of another. Born in the heat of war, wrapped in the blood of dragon and sand, was Princess Visenya Nymeros Targaryen Martell-the youngest child of Elia Martell and Prince Rhaegar Targaryen. Born mere hours-maybe minutes-before the sack of King's Landing. Too late to be saved with her siblings. Too early to die with her mother. She was sent away in silence, swaddled in urgency, and raised not in exile-but under flame-wrought protection. With her mother's sun-kissed fire and her father's dragon blood, she grew into a force the realm had forgotten to fear. But fear her they would. She would become Visenya the Conqueror, second of her name, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, born of Rhoynar and Valyria. And she would do what Aegon the Conqueror and his sisters once began- But she would finish it. She would raise a Triarchy. She would forge an Empire. So if you dare to follow the story of the dragon the world almost forgot- Turn the page. The flames are waiting.