#The royal heir book 2 finale

[novaursa]

- Note: So, I'll give this a go here. Those who followed my work on AO3 will notice some changes, but the gist is the same. Also, please be kind. If you don't like it, just scroll over it. I post stuff for people to enjoy them and escape the burdens of their lives with me for a while. There is no grand conspiracy here. Just read and relax. Also, this is an AU fanfic and my own personal toxic blend of the show and the book(s).

- Title: zōbrie ānogar

- Rating: Explicit (18+)

- Romance: (Aegon II/OFC)

- Warning: All flags are up for this work. Aegon is also a warning on his own.

- Summary: It was written by Archmaester Gyldayn that on the day Princess Vaella Targaryen was born she was supposed to die. Until she fed upon her twin, Baelon. And when she turned one and five, she sought her end in the lair of Cannibal, in Dragonmont. But instead of feasting upon her, the dragon wept with her. And Archmaester had written a lengthy thesis on how wild dragon recognized a kindred soul in the Princess, as they both dined on their kin.

- Word count: 9 000+

- Parts: 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, Final

Part 1

The air was thick with anticipation and the clang of swords as the tournament raged on in the fields outside King's Landing. Knights clashed in the lists, banners fluttered, and the crowd roared, their cheers echoing through the castle walls. Yet inside the royal chambers, the atmosphere was tense and fraught with fear.

Queen Aemma Arryn was in labor, her cries of pain mingling with the distant sounds of celebration. King Viserys I Targaryen paced the length of the chamber, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, worry etched deeply into his face. This was the moment he had long awaited, the birth of his male heir. But the labor was not progressing as it should.

Maester Mellos hovered nearby, his brow furrowed as he consulted with the midwives. "The babe is in breech, Your Grace," he said, his voice grave. "We cannot turn it. If we do not act soon, we will lose them both."

Viserys halted, his heart pounding. "What can be done?" he demanded, though he feared the answer.

"We can attempt to save the child," Mellos replied, his tone heavy with the weight of the decision. "But it will mean sacrificing the queen."

The king's breath caught in his throat. He looked at Aemma, her face pale and slick with sweat, her eyes filled with agony and desperation. She had given him so much, had borne the burden of his ambitions and dreams. And now, he was faced with a choice that would haunt him forever.

"Aemma," he whispered, kneeling beside her and taking her hand. "My love, they say... they say they can save the babe."

Aemma's eyes met his, wide with fear and pain. "Do what you must," she gasped. "Save our child, Viserys. Promise me."

Viserys felt his heart shatter, but he nodded, pressing a kiss to her trembling hand. "I promise."

The maester and midwives moved quickly, their faces set with grim determination. Viserys stood back, his hands shaking, as they prepared for the terrible task. He could hear the clamor of the tournament outside, a cruel reminder of the celebration that had turned into a nightmare.

The room was filled with the sounds of Aemma's cries and the maester's steady instructions. Viserys felt his world narrowing to this moment, every second stretching into an eternity. And then, a piercing wail broke through the tension.

"It's a boy," one of the midwives exclaimed, holding up the tiny, wriggling form. The babe's cry was strong, a sign of life and promise.

Viserys felt a brief surge of relief, but it was short-lived. "Wait," the maester said, his eyes widening in surprise. "There is another."

The midwives worked quickly, and soon another child was brought into the world, a girl this time, smaller and silent. The room fell into a hushed silence as they examined her, worry etched on their faces.

"She is not crying," one of the midwives whispered, her voice trembling.

Viserys stepped forward, his heart aching. "Vaella," he said softly, naming her after an ancient Targaryen ancestor. "My daughter, Vaella."

The maester nodded, though his expression remained grave. "She lives, but she is weak."

The twins were placed side by side, Baelon strong and crying, while Vaella lay silent and still. Viserys looked down at them, his heart torn between joy and sorrow. He reached out to touch Vaella's tiny hand, and in that moment, her eyes fluttered open, indigo and bright, meeting his with a quiet intensity.

"She will be strong," he murmured, a fierce determination filling him. "She will live."

The room was filled with the mingled sounds of the babes and the distant roar of the tournament, a poignant reminder of the life and death that intertwined in the halls of power. Viserys knew that this day would be remembered, not just for the birth of his heirs, but for the choices and sacrifices that had marked its passing.

...

A few hours later, Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen arrived at the nursery, her heart heavy with grief for her mother. She had loved Aemma deeply and the pain of her loss cut through her like a blade. The celebrations outside had turned into whispers of tragedy, and the joy of new life was mingled with the sorrow of death.

Rhaenyra’s steps were slow and measured as she walked through the halls, her mind reeling from the news. She understood, intellectually, why her father had made the choice he did, but it did little to soothe the anger and resentment boiling within her. She had wanted a brother, yes, but not at the cost of her mother’s life. And now, not only had she lost her mother, but her father had chosen a name for her sister without consulting her. She had wanted her sister to be named Visenya, after their legendary ancestor.

As she entered the nursery, she found the room softly lit and quiet, save for the occasional murmur of the maids tending to the infants. Rhaenyra’s gaze fell first upon her brother, Baelon, lying peacefully in his cradle, a small dragon egg nestled beside him, warm and glowing with promise.

"He's so small," she whispered to herself, reaching out to touch Baelon's tiny hand. His fingers curled around hers instinctively, and she felt a pang of tenderness mixed with her sorrow.

Then, she turned her attention to the cradle beside her brother's. Her newborn sister, Vaella, lay there, wide awake and silent. Vaella was pale, almost translucent, with an ethereal quality that unsettled Rhaenyra. Unlike Baelon, there was no dragon egg to keep her warm, yet the babe seemed content, her indigo eyes staring up at Rhaenyra with a calm intensity.

Rhaenyra knelt beside the cradle, her heart aching. "Hello, Vaella," she said softly, her voice trembling. "I'm your sister, Rhaenyra."

"Hello, little sister," Rhaenyra said softly, reaching out to gently stroke Vaella’s cheek. The baby did not react, her gaze unblinking. "Father named you Vaella, but I would have called you Visenya. A name worthy of a queen."

Vaella’s tiny hand moved slightly, as if reaching out, and Rhaenyra took it gently in her own. She marveled at how small and delicate Vaella was, a stark contrast to the strong and robust Baelon.

"She doesn't cry," one of the maids said quietly, approaching Rhaenyra. "She hasn't made a sound since she was born."

Rhaenyra nodded, her eyes never leaving Vaella's face. "She will be strong," she said, echoing her father's earlier words. "She has to be."

The maid hesitated before speaking again. "Your Grace, we were instructed to place a dragon egg in Vaella's cradle as well, but..."

"But what?" Rhaenyra asked, her tone sharp.

"We couldn't find one that seemed... right," the maid replied, her voice faltering. "The eggs are all warm, but none of them felt suitable for her."

Rhaenyra’s gaze hardened. "Then find one," she ordered. "She deserves the same chance as Baelon."

The maid bowed her head and quickly left the room. Rhaenyra turned back to Vaella, her expression softening. "I wanted you to be named Visenya. A name worthy of a queen," she whispered, brushing a finger gently across Vaella's cheek. "But Vaella is a strong name too. You will make it strong."

Vaella’s eyes remained fixed on her, unblinking and serene. Rhaenyra felt a strange sense of calm wash over her, as if the silent babe was imparting some of her tranquility.

She leaned closer, her voice a soft murmur. "I will protect you, Vaella. I will protect both of you. Mother's gone, but you have me. And I will not let anything happen to you."

Rhaenyra stayed there, watching over her siblings, her heart heavy with the weight of her promises and the sorrow of her loss. She knew that the days ahead would be fraught with challenges and dangers, but in that quiet moment, surrounded by the fragile beginnings of new life, she found a glimmer of hope and determination.

The nursery was a haven of calm amidst the storm, and as the first light of dawn began to filter through the windows, Rhaenyra vowed that she would honor her mother's memory by standing strong for her family, no matter the cost.

...

The next day dawned with a hushed stillness that seemed to permeate the entire Red Keep. The jubilation of the previous day had been tempered by the tragedy of Queen Aemma's death, but the court still held a flicker of hope in the promise of the newborn twins. Servants moved quietly through the halls, attending to their duties with a solemn air.

In the nursery, the maids and servants who had tended to the twins throughout the night were greeted by a scene of unexpected and harrowing sorrow. The once lively Baelon, who had been sleeping peacefully beside his dragon egg, was now eerily still in his cradle. His tiny chest no longer rose and fell with breath, his eyes closed in eternal slumber.

The discovery sent a shockwave through the nursery. Gasps of horror and grief filled the room as the realization settled in. The King's heir, his long-awaited son, was dead. The dragon egg that had been placed beside him now seemed like a cruel mockery of the life that had been so abruptly extinguished.

"Fetch the Maester," one of the servants choked out, her hands trembling as she tried to comprehend the tragedy before her. "Quickly!"

Maester Mellos arrived swiftly, his face a mask of concern as he took in the scene. He approached Baelon's cradle with a heavy heart, gently placing his fingers against the babe's tiny neck, hoping against hope for a sign of life. There was none. He bowed his head, his heart sinking with the weight of the loss.

As Mellos turned to the cradle beside Baelon's, a sudden and piercing wail filled the air. It was a sound so unexpected and startling that it caused everyone in the room to freeze. Vaella, the silent and still babe, had come alive with a cry that seemed to resonate with a power far beyond her fragile form.

"By the Seven," Mellos muttered, his eyes wide with astonishment. He moved to Vaella's side, noting the newfound vitality in her eyes, the strength in her cries. She was more alive now than she had been since her birth.

The servants exchanged uneasy glances, their grief for Baelon now mingled with a sense of unease. Mellos looked down at the wailing Vaella, his mind racing. It was an old superstition, a whisper from the past: when one twin died, the other sometimes took their soul, their strength. It was said to be a bad omen, a dark portent.

Mellos kept his thoughts to himself, though the notion unsettled him deeply. "It is a tragedy," he said aloud, his voice steady despite the turmoil within. "The Princess Vaella has found her voice, it seems, but the loss of Prince Baelon is a heavy blow to us all."

One of the servants, a young woman with tear-streaked cheeks, looked at Mellos with a mixture of fear and confusion. "What does it mean, Maester?" she asked. "Why now?"

Mellos sighed, shaking his head. "I do not know," he admitted. "But we must inform the King. This loss... it will cripple him."

The servants nodded solemnly, their hearts heavy with the task ahead. As they prepared to deliver the devastating news to King Viserys, Mellos turned back to Vaella. The babe had quieted, her cries giving way to a strange, serene silence. He couldn't shake the feeling that something profound had shifted in the balance of life and death within this room.

"I will note this in my journal," Mellos murmured to himself, making a mental note to document the strange events surrounding the twins. He would keep his suspicions to himself for now, but the memory of Vaella's piercing wail would haunt him for years to come.

As the maids and servants moved to carry out their somber duties, the weight of the tragedy settled over the Red Keep like a shroud. The joyous celebrations of new life had been overshadowed by death, and the realm would feel the ripples of this loss for years to come. King Viserys, now a father and a widower, would have to navigate the treacherous waters of grief and responsibility, his heart forever marked by the sorrow of this day.

...

The day of the funeral dawned cold and overcast, the sky heavy with clouds that mirrored the somber mood of the assembled mourners. All gathered before the grand pyre that had been erected outside the Red Keep, a stark testament to the loss of both Queen Aemma and Prince Baelon. The scent of incense and the crackling of torches filled the air, but a profound silence hung over the gathering, broken only by the distant sound of waves against the shore.

King Viserys stood closest to the pyre, his shoulders slumped and his eyes red-rimmed from sleepless nights of weeping. His grief was a palpable thing, weighing down the very air around him. He seemed almost a ghost of himself, hollowed out by the dual tragedies that had befallen him.

A little further down, Rhaenyra stood with her newborn sister Vaella cradled in her arms. She held the babe tightly, as if drawing strength from her tiny, warm presence. Vaella was silent, her indigo eyes wide and watchful, taking in the scene with an uncanny stillness.

Behind Rhaenyra, Prince Daemon Targaryen watched with a mixture of sorrow and concern. He stepped forward, placing a hand gently on Rhaenyra’s shoulder. "It's time," he said softly. "Your father needs you now."

Rhaenyra turned her tear-streaked face towards her uncle, her eyes filled with a mixture of pain and resignation. "I will never be a son," she whispered, her voice trembling. "And neither will Vaella."

Daemon's expression softened, and he squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. "You are stronger than any son, Rhaenyra. And your father needs that strength now more than ever."

Taking a deep breath, Rhaenyra nodded. She stepped forward, feeling the weight of her duty pressing down upon her young shoulders. She could feel the eyes of the gathered nobles and courtiers upon her, their silent expectation adding to her burden. She glanced at her father, who seemed lost in his own world of sorrow, barely aware of his surroundings.

With tears streaming down her face, Rhaenyra looked up at Syrax, her beloved dragon, who waited patiently beside the pyre. The golden beast’s eyes glowed with a fierce intelligence, and she seemed to understand the gravity of the moment.

"Dracarys," Rhaenyra commanded, her voice breaking.

In an instant, Syrax unleashed a torrent of dragonfire. The flames roared to life, consuming the pyre in a brilliant blaze that lit up the overcast sky. The heat was intense, and the air filled with the acrid scent of burning wood and flesh. The mourners stepped back, shielding their faces from the searing heat, but Rhaenyra stood her ground, her eyes fixed on the flames.

The crackling of the fire was accompanied by the soft sobs and murmurs of those gathered. The loss of their queen and the young prince was a blow to the realm, and the grief of the people was a reflection of the profound sorrow felt by their king.

Rhaenyra looked down at Vaella, her tiny face illuminated by the firelight. "You are all I have left of her," she whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to her sister’s forehead. "I will protect you, always."

Vaella gazed up at her, silent and solemn, as if she understood the weight of her sister's words. Rhaenyra felt a fierce protectiveness surge within her. She might never be the son her father had wished for, but she would be strong for him, for her family, and for her realm.

As the pyre burned, Rhaenyra stood with her sister in her arms, a silent vow forming in her heart. She would honor her mother's memory, and she would ensure that Vaella grew up knowing the love and strength that had defined their mother. The flames roared higher, a testament to the fire that burned within the Targaryen bloodline, a fire that Rhaenyra vowed would never be extinguished.

...

Six months had passed since the tragic deaths of Queen Aemma and Prince Baelon, and King Viserys had made a decision that shocked the realm. He chose to marry Alicent Hightower, the daughter of his Hand, Otto Hightower. This alliance was seen by many as a strategic move to stabilize the kingdom, but it also stirred whispers and discontent among the nobles. In a further surprising move, Viserys named his daughter Rhaenyra as the heir to the Iron Throne, a decision that defied tradition and set tongues wagging throughout Westeros.

Another year passed, and Queen Alicent gave birth to a son, Aegon. The realm celebrated the birth of a male heir, but the decision to place him in the nursery with Vaella, who continued to grow normally and thrive, added an interesting dynamic to the royal family. Despite Rhaenyra's attempts to give her sister a dragon egg to hatch, Vaella showed no interest in any of them. After several unsuccessful tries, Rhaenyra stopped bringing the eggs, accepting that Vaella was different in her own way.

The connection between Aegon and Vaella was immediate and profound. Vaella's quiet presence seemed to calm the newborn prince, who basked in the comfort of his half-sister's company. This bond often agitated Rhaenyra, who felt a mixture of protectiveness and jealousy. She would frequently 'steal' Vaella away from the nursery, taking her for walks around the Red Keep or in the gardens, much to the dismay and complaints of the servants. Aegon would become fussy and cry until Vaella was returned to him, a fact that both frustrated and amused Rhaenyra.

One sunny afternoon, Rhaenyra and Vaella were walking through the lush gardens of the Red Keep. The scent of blooming flowers filled the air, and the gentle rustling of leaves provided a serene backdrop. Vaella, now a curious toddler with pale blonde hair and indigo eyes, held tightly to Rhaenyra's hand, her steps wobbly but determined.

"Do you like the flowers, Vaella?" Rhaenyra asked, kneeling down to pick a bright red rose and handing it to her sister.

Vaella nodded, her eyes wide with wonder as she examined the flower. "Pretty," she murmured, her voice soft and clear.

Rhaenyra smiled, but her expression quickly turned somber. "You know, sometimes I wish things were different," she said, more to herself than to Vaella. "I wish Mother were here to see you grow. She would have loved you so much."

Vaella looked up at her sister, her indigo eyes filled with an understanding far beyond her years. "Mama," she said simply, reaching up to touch Rhaenyra's face.

Rhaenyra's heart ached with the weight of her sister's innocence and the loss they both shared. "Yes, Mama," she whispered, hugging Vaella tightly. "But you have me, and I will always be here for you."

As they continued their walk, they passed a group of servants who were nervously whispering among themselves. One of them, a young maid, approached Rhaenyra hesitantly. "Your Grace, Prince Aegon is very fussy. He won't stop crying without Princess Vaella."

Rhaenyra sighed, feeling the familiar pang of frustration. "He can wait a little longer," she replied curtly. "Vaella needs fresh air and sunshine."

The maid bowed her head, retreating with a worried glance. Rhaenyra led Vaella to a shaded bench under a sprawling oak tree, lifting her sister onto her lap. "You know, Vaella, sometimes I feel like I can't do anything right," she confessed, brushing a strand of hair from Vaella's face. "But when I'm with you, it feels like everything is okay."

Vaella looked up at her with a solemn expression. "Love Nyra," she said, wrapping her small arms around her sister's neck.

Rhaenyra felt tears prick her eyes, but she blinked them away, smiling through her sadness. "And I love you, my sweet Vaella," she whispered. "Always."

As they sat together in the peaceful garden, the bond between the sisters grew stronger, a beacon of light amidst the complexities of court life and the looming shadows of their past. The challenges ahead were many, but in each other's company, they found solace and strength to face whatever the future held.

...

Two years had passed, and Vaella continued to grow normally, blossoming into a lively child. She spent her days in the company of her half-brother Aegon, who refused to be parted from her for long. This inseparable bond often infuriated Rhaenyra, who cherished her moments alone with Vaella but had to contend with Aegon's tantrums whenever his sister was taken away.

Despite Rhaenyra's best efforts, Aegon and Vaella were rarely separated. The young prince's attachment to his half-sister was so strong that the servants, exasperated by Aegon's constant cries, eventually allowed the two children to sleep in the same crib. It was the only way to ensure Aegon's peaceful slumber.

In the royal chambers, Alicent Hightower, now visibly pregnant with her second child, often expressed her concerns to King Viserys about this arrangement. One evening, as she lay in bed with Viserys beside her, she broached the subject once more.

"This is not healthy, Viserys," Alicent said, her voice tinged with frustration. "Aegon is far too dependent on Vaella. They should not be sleeping in the same crib. It's not proper."

Viserys, weary from the day's duties, sighed and rubbed his temples. "They're just children, Alicent. They'll grow out of it. Let them be."

Alicent's eyes flashed with irritation. "It's not just about them growing out of it. It sets a bad precedent. Aegon should be learning to be independent, not clinging to his sister all the time."

Viserys shrugged, clearly not wanting to engage in another argument. "They're happy, and they're safe. That's all that matters."

Alicent opened her mouth to retort, but then thought better of it. Instead, she turned away, fuming silently. Her pregnancy had made her more sensitive to the disturbances in the household, and Aegon's dependency on Vaella was just one of many concerns weighing on her mind.

Meanwhile, in the nursery, Rhaenyra watched as Aegon and Vaella played together. Aegon's laughter echoed through the room as Vaella chased him, her own giggles filling the air. Rhaenyra felt a mix of love and exasperation as she approached them.

"Vaella, come with me," Rhaenyra said, holding out her hand. "Let's go for a walk."

Aegon's face immediately crumpled, and he clung to Vaella. "No! Vaella stays here!"

Rhaenyra's patience was wearing thin. "Aegon, you can't always have her with you. She needs to spend time with me too."

Aegon shook his head vehemently, his eyes filling with tears. "No! Vaella stays!"

Rhaenyra sighed, knowing that any attempt to separate them would end in another tantrum. She knelt down and gently pried Aegon's hands from Vaella. "I'll bring her back soon, I promise."

As she led Vaella out of the nursery, the sound of Aegon's wails echoed down the hallway. The servants exchanged resigned looks, knowing it was only a matter of time before Vaella would be brought back to soothe the young prince.

In the gardens, Rhaenyra and Vaella walked hand in hand. The sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled shadows on the path. Rhaenyra looked down at her sister, her heart aching with a mix of love and frustration.

"Why do you let him cling to you so much, Vaella?" Rhaenyra asked, her tone softer now that they were alone. "Don't you want to have time just for us?"

Vaella looked up at her with wide, innocent eyes. "Aegon needs me," she said simply, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "He cries when I'm not there."

Rhaenyra's heart softened at her sister's words. She knelt down to Vaella's level, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "I know he does, but I need you too, Vaella. You're my sister, and I love you."

Vaella smiled and wrapped her arms around Rhaenyra's neck. "I love you too, Nyra. Always."

As they embraced, Rhaenyra felt a renewed sense of determination. She would find a way to balance her love for Vaella with the demands of their unusual family dynamic. No matter the challenges, she would protect and cherish her sister, just as she had promised on that fateful day by the pyre.

Back in the royal chambers, Alicent lay awake, her thoughts troubled. She placed a hand on her growing belly and sighed. The future seemed more uncertain than ever, but she vowed to do whatever it took to ensure the safety and well-being of her children. As she drifted off to sleep, her mind remained filled with the complexities of their intertwined destinies, each step a delicate dance in the ever-shifting sands of power and family.

...

Vaella was six years old, and her fascination with dragons had only grown with time. Despite her lack of interest in dragon eggs, her eyes would light up whenever she saw Syrax, Rhaenyra’s majestic golden dragon. One crisp morning, Rhaenyra decided it was time for her sister to experience the thrill of flying.

Rhaenyra led Vaella to the Dragonpit, where Syrax awaited. The dragon’s eyes gleamed with intelligence as Rhaenyra approached, her scales shimmering in the early morning light. Vaella’s excitement was palpable, her small hand gripping Rhaenyra’s tightly.

“Are you ready, Vaella?” Rhaenyra asked, a smile playing on her lips.

Vaella nodded eagerly. “Yes, Rhaenyra. I want to fly!”

As Rhaenyra helped Vaella climb onto Syrax’s back, the young girl’s laughter filled the air, a sound of pure joy and exhilaration. With a final check to ensure Vaella was secure, Rhaenyra mounted behind her and gave Syrax the signal to take flight.

The dragon’s powerful wings beat against the air, lifting them off the ground. Vaella’s eyes widened in wonder as the Red Keep grew smaller below them, the world unfolding in a breathtaking panorama. The wind whipped through their hair, and Vaella’s laughter echoed in the skies.

Meanwhile, back in the nursery, Aegon was throwing a fit. He had watched in dismay as Rhaenyra took Vaella away, his cries growing louder with each passing moment. Alicent, now heavily pregnant with her third child, tried to soothe him, but Aegon was inconsolable.

“Where is Vaella?” Aegon wailed, tears streaming down his face. “I want Vaella!”

Alicent knelt beside her son, her patience wearing thin. “Aegon, you need to learn to be apart from Vaella. She has other things to do, and you need to be strong without her.”

Aegon shook his head vehemently, his face red with anger and frustration. “No! You can’t take Vaella away from me! Rhaenyra can’t take her away either!”

In his tantrum, Aegon grabbed one of his toys—a wooden dragon—and threw it across the room, where it shattered against the wall. His screams grew louder, and Alicent’s attempts to calm him seemed only to fuel his rage.

“Aegon, please,” Alicent said, her voice strained. “This behavior is unacceptable. You must learn to control yourself.”

But Aegon was beyond reason, his cries echoing through the halls of the Red Keep. Alicent stood, her hands clenched at her sides, her irritation mounting. She had tried to reason with Viserys about their son’s dependence on Vaella, but he had merely shrugged it off, much to her annoyance.

As Aegon continued to scream for Rhaenyra to bring Vaella back, Alicent felt a surge of frustration. She stormed out of the nursery, determined to find Viserys and make him understand the gravity of the situation.

She found him in the council chamber, discussing matters of state with her father, Otto Hightower, and other advisors. Ignoring the decorum, Alicent marched up to him, her eyes blazing with anger.

“Viserys, we need to talk,” she said, her voice low but fierce.

Viserys looked up, surprised by her sudden appearance. “Alicent, what is it?”

“It’s Aegon,” she said, struggling to keep her composure. “He’s in the nursery throwing a tantrum because Vaella is not there. He’s become too dependent on her, and it’s not healthy. You need to take this seriously.”

Viserys sighed, rubbing his temples. “Alicent, they’re just children. Siblings often form close bonds.”

“This is more than that, and you know it,” Alicent snapped. “He can’t be apart from her for even a moment without falling apart. This dependency will only grow if we don’t address it now.”

Viserys looked at her, seeing the worry and frustration etched on her face. He nodded slowly. “Alright, I’ll speak with Aegon. But give them time, Alicent. They’re still so young.”

Alicent sighed, feeling a mixture of relief and lingering frustration. “Thank you, Viserys. I just want what’s best for them.”

Meanwhile, high above the Red Keep, Rhaenyra and Vaella soared through the skies on Syrax. The city of King’s Landing spread out below them like a tapestry, and Vaella’s eyes sparkled with wonder.

“This is amazing, Rhaenyra!” Vaella shouted over the wind, her laughter infectious.

Rhaenyra smiled, her heart swelling with pride and love for her sister. “I knew you’d love it, Vaella. There’s nothing quite like flying.”

As they flew, Rhaenyra felt a sense of peace. Despite the challenges and frustrations that awaited them on the ground, up here, they were free. She vowed to cherish these moments with Vaella, to protect and nurture her sister as best she could. For now, they had the sky, and that was enough.

...

As the sun began to set, casting a golden hue over the Red Keep, Rhaenyra and Vaella returned from their exhilarating flight on Syrax. The dragon landed gracefully in the courtyard, and Rhaenyra helped Vaella down, her heart still racing from the thrill of their adventure. The moment their feet touched the ground, Aegon came running toward them, his face streaked with tears and his cries echoing off the stone walls.

"Vaella!" Aegon wailed, rushing to her and wrapping his small arms tightly around her. "You’re back!"

Vaella hugged him back, her expression a mix of confusion and concern. "I’m here, Aegon. I’m here."

Rhaenyra watched, her annoyance simmering beneath the surface. "Aegon, you can’t just cling to Vaella like that all the time," she said, her tone sharp. "She needs her own space too."

Aegon looked up at Rhaenyra, his eyes filled with defiance and tears. "You can’t take her away from me! She’s mine!"

Rhaenyra’s patience was wearing thin. She knew it was foolish to argue with such a young child, but the possessiveness in Aegon’s voice grated on her. Vaella was the last connection she had to their mother, and the thought of sharing her sister in this way was intolerable.

"Vaella is not yours, Aegon," Rhaenyra snapped, her voice cold. "She is her own person, and you don’t own her."

Aegon’s face crumpled, and he let out another wail, his small body shaking with the force of his tantrum. "No! No! Vaella is mine! You can’t have her!"

The servants in the courtyard exchanged weary glances, clearly exasperated by the scene unfolding before them. Vaella stood in the middle, unsure of what to do, her eyes darting between her sister and her brother.

"Aegon," Vaella said softly, trying to soothe him. "It’s okay. I’m here now."

Alicent, drawn by the noise, arrived in the courtyard, her face set in a mixture of concern and frustration. "What is going on here?" she demanded, her gaze shifting from Rhaenyra to Aegon, who was still clinging to Vaella.

Rhaenyra’s eyes flashed with anger as she looked at Alicent. "Your son doesn’t understand that Vaella isn’t his to command," she said sharply. "He needs to learn some boundaries."

Alicent’s expression hardened. "Rhaenyra, he’s just a child. He doesn’t understand these things yet."

Rhaenyra’s temper flared, and she took a step forward. "And he never will if you keep coddling him like this! Vaella is not his to cling to every time he wants. She’s my sister too, and I won’t have her treated like a toy!"

Alicent’s face went pale, and she took a deep breath, trying to maintain her composure. "This isn’t helping anyone, Rhaenyra. We need to find a way to help Aegon understand without making things worse."

Rhaenyra’s eyes filled with tears of frustration. "Vaella is all I have left of my mother. I won’t let him take her from me."

With that, Rhaenyra turned on her heel and stormed away, leaving the courtyard in tense silence. Alicent watched her go, a sigh escaping her lips. She turned her attention back to Aegon, who was still clinging to Vaella, his sobs quieter but no less heartbreaking.

"Come here, Aegon," Alicent said softly, kneeling down to his level. "It’s okay. Vaella isn’t going anywhere."

Aegon looked up at her, his face streaked with tears. "But she left me. Rhaenyra took her."

Alicent gently pried his hands from Vaella and pulled him into a hug. "I know, darling. But sometimes Vaella needs to do things with Rhaenyra too. You’ll see her again soon, I promise."

Aegon nodded, sniffling, but his grip on Vaella’s hand remained tight. Vaella, sensing his distress, squeezed his hand back, her expression one of quiet understanding.

Alicent sighed, looking at the two children. "Let’s get you both inside. It’s getting late."

As she led them back into the Red Keep, she couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of worry. The tensions between Rhaenyra and Aegon were growing, and she knew that unless something changed, these small conflicts could become much larger as they all grew older. For now, she focused on comforting her son and ensuring that Vaella felt secure, hoping that they would find a way to navigate these troubled waters together.

...

Fifteen-year-old Vaella Targaryen sat quietly beside her father, King Viserys I, in his chambers. The room was filled with the intricate model of Old Valyria that Viserys had been painstakingly working on for years. The delicate spires and towers of the ancient city gleamed under the soft light of the candles, casting intricate shadows on the walls. Vaella's small hands delicately placed a tiny bridge between two towers, her face scrunched up in concentration.

Viserys, now looking much older than his years, his health visibly deteriorating, watched his daughter with a fond smile. Despite his efforts to hide it, Vaella knew he was unwell. The signs were clear in the way he moved, slower and more deliberate, and the occasional wince of pain that crossed his features.

"You're doing wonderfully, Vaella," Viserys said, his voice soft but filled with pride. "You have a steady hand."

Vaella smiled up at him, her indigo eyes bright. "Thank you, Father. I love working on this with you."

Viserys nodded, his gaze drifting to the model before him. "It's a piece of our history. A connection to our roots." He paused, then turned to her. "How was your time with your nephews, Jacaerys and Lucerys?"

Vaella's face lit up. "It was interesting. Maester Mellos was teaching us about Targaryen history, the stories of our ancestors. Then Laenor told us about the great sailors who ventured all the way to the Summer Isles. I love hearing about their adventures."

Viserys chuckled, a raspy sound that ended in a slight cough. "I'm glad you're learning and enjoying your time with them. It's important to understand where we come from." He hesitated for a moment before asking, "And how is Aegon handling the changes?"

Vaella's smile faded slightly, and she frowned, her brow furrowing. "Not very well, Father. He doesn't like it when I'm away. He gets upset and still sometimes throws tantrums."

Viserys sighed, rubbing his temples. "Aegon has always struggled with separation. He has a strong bond with you."

Vaella nodded, looking thoughtful. "I know he loves me, and I love him too. But sometimes it's hard. He doesn't understand that I need to spend time with others too."

Viserys placed a gentle hand on Vaella's shoulder. "It's not easy being the center of someone's world. Aegon needs to learn that you have your own life, your own interests."

Vaella looked up at him, her eyes filled with determination. "I'll help him understand, Father. I'll be patient with him."

Viserys smiled, his eyes softening. "You're wise beyond your years, Vaella. Your kindness and patience will serve you well." He paused, his expression turning more serious. "And how are you, my dear? How are you handling all these changes?"

Vaella shrugged slightly. "It's a lot, but I have you and Rhaenyra. And I love spending time with my nephews. They make me laugh and I enjoy learning with them."

Viserys nodded, feeling a pang of pride and sorrow for his young daughter. "You're a strong girl, Vaella. Stronger than you know. Always remember that."

Vaella hugged her father tightly, feeling the frailty in his embrace but also the warmth of his love. "I will, Father. I'll always remember."

...

In a quieter corner of the Red Keep, Aegon paced back and forth, his young face twisted in frustration. His younger brother, Aemond, sat nearby, trying to focus on a book but finding it impossible with Aegon's incessant complaining.

"They took her again, Aemond! They took Vaella to spend more time with Rhaenyra and her bastards," Aegon fumed, kicking at a loose stone on the floor. "They think those boys are more worthy than me!"

Aemond looked up from his book, his blue eyes sharp. "You shouldn't talk like that, Aegon. It's dangerous."

Aegon scoffed, his face a mask of indignation. "Why shouldn't I? Mother calls them bastards all the time. Everyone knows it's true."

Aemond closed his book with a sigh, setting it aside. "Just because Mother says it doesn't mean you should repeat it. It's disrespectful, and it will get you into trouble."

Aegon glared at his brother, his anger unabated. "You’re just jealous because Vaella likes me more than you."

Aemond raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued despite his annoyance. "Why is Vaella so special to you, Aegon? Why do you always want her around?"

Aegon’s expression hardened. "You're stupid for even asking that, Aemond. She just is. Nobody loves me like Vaella does. She understands me."

Aemond rolled his eyes, leaning back against the wall. "That's stupid. She's just a girl. She can’t make everything better."

Aegon stepped closer, his fists clenched at his sides. "Shut up, Aemond. You don't understand anything."

Aemond shrugged, his expression indifferent. "Maybe I don't. But I heard Maester Mellos talking to Mother once. He said Vaella ate her twin. Maybe that’s why you think she’s so special. She’s got something extra from her dead brother."

Aegon’s face contorted with a mixture of horror and fascination. "What are you talking about?"

Aemond smirked, enjoying the shift in power. "It’s true. Mellos said Vaella didn't cry when she was born, not until her brother died. Maybe she took something from him. Maybe that’s why you feel so close to her."

Aegon stood silent for a moment, absorbing his brother’s words. Then, a twisted smile spread across his face. "Good. If her dead brother gave her something extra, then it's better for me. He would have taken her from me too."

Aemond frowned, not expecting that reaction. "You’re strange, Aegon. You know that?"

Aegon shrugged, a hint of madness in his eyes. "Maybe. But Vaella is mine. And no one will take her from me. Not Rhaenyra, not anyone."

Aemond sighed, shaking his head. "You’re going to get us all in trouble one day, Aegon. Mark my words."

Aegon ignored his brother, his mind already returning to thoughts of Vaella and the frustration of being separated from her. He would find a way to keep her close, no matter what it took.

…

The morning sun cast long shadows over the Dragonpit as Jacaerys, Lucerys, Aegon, Aemond, and Vaella made their way to the massive structure. The air was filled with the heady scent of dragon musk and the sound of wings flapping. Inside the pit, three dragons awaited their riders, their scales shimmering in the sunlight. Vaella stood quietly by Aemond's side, the two of them the only ones without dragons to bond with. While Aemond's frustration was evident, Vaella seemed content, her serene demeanor a stark contrast to her younger brother's visible agitation.

As the dragons were led out one by one, Vaella watched with a mix of awe and quiet longing. When Sunfyre appeared, his golden scales glinting brilliantly, Aegon eagerly grabbed Vaella's hand and pulled her along. "Come on, Vaella, let's attend to Sunfyre together."

Vaella allowed herself to be led, her eyes widening as they approached the magnificent dragon. She gently stroked Sunfyre's scales, feeling the warmth emanating from his body. Aegon stood beside her, his pride evident as he showed off his bond with the dragon. Vaella smiled softly, her affection for her brother momentarily overshadowing her usual frustrations with him.

Later, once the dragons were fed and content, Aegon let go of Vaella's hand and turned his attention to Aemond. There was a mischievous glint in his eye that Vaella did not like. Aegon, Jacaerys, and Lucerys huddled together, whispering and giggling before calling Aemond over.

"Come here, Aemond!" Aegon shouted, his voice filled with feigned excitement. "We found a dragon for you!"

Aemond's eyes lit up with a mixture of excitement and suspicion. He approached cautiously, glancing back at Vaella for reassurance. She gave him a small, supportive smile, but her unease grew.

As Aemond drew closer, the boys stepped aside to reveal a pig adorned with makeshift dragon wings and a painted snout. "Behold, the Pink Dread!" Aegon announced with mock grandeur, barely able to contain his laughter.

Jacaerys and Lucerys burst into laughter, pointing at the pig and doubling over with mirth. Aemond's face turned bright red with humiliation, his eyes welling up with tears. Vaella's expression darkened, her initial amusement giving way to anger.

"Aegon, Jace, Luke, that's enough!" Vaella's voice was sharp, cutting through the laughter. "How dare you humiliate Aemond like this?"

Aegon's laughter faltered as he met Vaella's furious gaze. "It was just a joke, Vaella. We didn't mean—"

"Do I deserve the same?" Vaella interrupted, her voice cold. "I don't have a dragon either. Is this how you plan to treat me too?"

Aegon stumbled over his words, his face turning pale. "No, Vaella, I didn't mean—"

But Vaella had already turned on her heel, her expression stormy as she walked away from the Dragonpit. Aegon rushed after her, desperation in his voice. "Vaella, wait! Please, don't be mad at me. I didn't mean to hurt anyone."

Vaella stopped and spun around to face him, her eyes blazing with anger. "You always do this, Aegon. You act without thinking and hurt the people who care about you. Aemond looks up to you, and this is how you treat him?"

Aegon reached out, but Vaella stepped back, shaking her head. "I thought you were better than this."

"Vaella, I'm sorry," Aegon pleaded, his voice trembling. "I didn't mean to hurt you or Aemond. Please, forgive me."

Vaella took a deep breath, her anger still simmering but her voice softening slightly. "Apologize to Aemond. Make it right with him. And think before you act next time."

Aegon nodded, his eyes filled with regret. "I will. I promise."

As Vaella turned and walked away, Aegon stood there, watching her go with a heavy heart. He knew he had to make amends, not just with Aemond but also with Vaella. The bonds of family were fragile, and he had to learn to cherish and protect them.

Inside the Dragonpit, Aemond stood alone, his shoulders slumped in defeat. Vaella approached him, her expression softening. "I'm sorry they treated you like that, Aemond. You deserve better."

Aemond looked up, his eyes filled with gratitude. "Thank you, Vaella. You're the only one who seems to understand."

Vaella hugged her brother tightly. "We'll find our own dragons one day, Aemond. Until then, we have each other."

As they walked away together, the bond between them strengthened, a promise of loyalty and support in a world filled with uncertainty and strife.

…

That evening, Vaella sat in her chambers, the events of the day weighing heavily on her mind. The candles flickered softly, casting gentle shadows on the walls, as she tried to find some semblance of peace. Her thoughts were interrupted by a quiet knock on the door.

“Vaella, it’s me,” Aegon’s voice came through the door, hesitant yet determined.

Vaella sighed, already knowing why he was here. “Come in, Aegon.”

Aegon entered, closing the door behind him. He looked uncertain, his usual bravado tempered by a mix of guilt and frustration. “I wanted to apologize again. The idea was Jace and Luke’s, not mine.”

Vaella made a grimace, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Then why does it reek of you, Aegon?”

Aegon’s irritation flared, and he stepped closer, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “Why do you care so much about annoying Aemond? He’s just—”

“He’s my brother too, Aegon,” Vaella interrupted sharply, her eyes blazing. “Just like you are.”

Aegon pressed on, his voice lower but intense. “But you love me more, don’t you?”

Vaella frowned, seeing the familiar possessiveness in Aegon’s eyes. It had not diminished with time, if anything, it had grown. “Aegon, I will always love you. But I also love Jace, Luke, Aemond, and even little Joffrey. We’re all family.”

Aegon stepped even closer, their faces now mere inches apart. “But you love me more, right?” he asked, his voice dropping to an intimate whisper.

Vaella’s heart pounded in her chest, her emotions a whirlwind of love, frustration, and understanding. She met his gaze steadily, her voice soft but firm. “Yes, Aegon. I love you more.”

Aegon’s tense expression softened, and he leaned in to kiss her forehead, a gesture that held both affection and possessiveness. He then began to shed his attire, his movements slow and deliberate. Vaella watched him, her own feelings a mix of resignation and affection.

“Aegon,” she warned gently, “if your mother finds out we’re sharing a bed again, she’ll yell at both of us.”

Aegon shrugged, climbing into her bed with a dismissive smile. “Let her yell. I don’t care. Come here.”

Vaella’s resolve wavered, and eventually, she couldn’t help but smile. She slipped into the bed beside him, the ritual familiar and comforting. They had been sharing a bed since they were babes, a habit that had persisted despite Alicent’s disapproval.

As they lay together, Aegon wrapped his arms around Vaella, holding her close. She rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. The warmth of his embrace was soothing, a reminder of their unbreakable bond despite the chaos around them.

They didn’t fall asleep right away. Instead, they lay in the quiet, drawing comfort from each other’s presence. Vaella felt Aegon’s breath against her hair, his hold on her gentle yet possessive. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to relax for the first time that day.

“Vaella,” Aegon murmured, his voice soft in the darkness. “I promise I’ll never let anyone come between us. Not Rhaenyra, not anyone.”

Vaella sighed, her heart aching with a mixture of love and sadness. “I know, Aegon. And I’ll always be here for you.”

They held onto each other, finding solace in their shared closeness. The world outside might be fraught with tension and uncertainty, but in this moment, they were simply a brother and sister, bound by love and loyalty.

…

Alicent Hightower strode through the dimly lit corridors of the Red Keep, her frustration mounting with each step. She had been looking for her eldest son, Aegon, to confront him about the cruel prank he and Rhaenyra’s sons had played on Aemond. Finding his chambers empty had only intensified her annoyance, as she knew exactly where he would be—once again with his half-sister, Vaella.

Alicent had tried her best to separate the two as they grew older, understanding the potential complications their bond could bring. But no matter her efforts, Aegon always found his way back to Vaella, their connection unbroken. She couldn't help but recall Maester Mellos’ words about Vaella being strange since birth, and the implications of that observation gnawed at her.

Meanwhile, in Vaella's chambers, the atmosphere was a stark contrast to Alicent's rising tension. Vaella and Aegon lay in her bed, still entwined in their embrace. Aegon’s lips trailed down her cheek to her neck, eliciting a soft hitch in her breath. She clutched at him gently, feeling the warmth of his body against hers.

“Aegon,” she whispered, her voice breathy with both pleasure and concern, “promise me again you won’t mock Aemond like that again.”

Aegon’s kisses paused for a moment as he sighed. “I promise,” he murmured before resuming his tender exploration. His hands roamed over her curves, their touch growing more familiar and intimate with time. His movements against her nightgown became more urgent, her quiet moans filling the room.

Just as Aegon’s urgency peaked and he found release, spilling his seed onto Vaella’s thigh, the door to her chambers swung open. Both Aegon and Vaella sat up abruptly, alarmed and disheveled.

Alicent’s worried frown deepened as she took in the sight before her. She quickly closed the door behind her, her gaze intense. “Did you do it?” she demanded, her voice strained with a mix of anger and fear.

Vaella blushed deeply, realizing the insinuation behind Alicent's question. “No, Mother. We didn’t… we never go that far,” she stammered, her words tumbling over each other.

Alicent sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly with relief, though her irritation remained. She turned her focus to Aegon. “And what about the pig, Aegon? The Pink Dread?”

Aegon deflected, his tone dismissive. “It was Jace and Luke’s idea.”

Alicent scolded him, her eyes narrowing. “Don’t lie to me, Aegon. You were just as much a part of it.”

Aegon rolled his eyes and lay back on the bed, clearly unwilling to continue the conversation. “Fine, whatever,” he muttered.

Vaella interjected, her voice calm but firm. “I made him promise not to mock Aemond again, Mother.”

Alicent’s gaze softened slightly as she looked at Vaella. Despite the tension, she recognized the sincerity in her stepdaughter’s words. “Good. That’s good,” she said quietly. Before leaving, she turned back to them, her expression resolute. “This is the last time you two will share a bed.”

Vaella nodded, understanding the gravity of Alicent’s words but knowing deep down it was a promise neither she nor Aegon intended to keep. “Yes, Mother,” she replied.

Alicent gave them one last look, a mixture of concern and resignation in her eyes, before she left the room, closing the door softly behind her.

As the door clicked shut, Aegon sat up again, his demeanor shifting from defiance to a more contemplative mood. “She won’t keep us apart, you know,” he said softly, reaching out to take Vaella’s hand.

Vaella squeezed his hand gently, a small smile playing on her lips. “I know, Aegon. But we should be careful.”

He nodded, pulling her closer. “Always,” he promised.

They lay back down together, the quiet of the room wrapping around them like a comforting blanket. In the stillness of the night, they found solace in each other's presence, knowing that no matter what, they would face the world together.

…

The meeting of the small council was underway in the grand chamber of the Red Keep. The air was thick with the scent of burning candles and the tension of unresolved conflicts. Rhaenyra, dressed in her regal black and red attire, sat at the head of the table, her face composed but her eyes betraying the urgency of her thoughts. King Viserys, though visibly weakened by his illness, was present, his presence lending an air of gravitas to the proceedings. Alicent Hightower, her face a mask of controlled composure, sat beside him, her eyes watchful and calculating.

As the discussions turned to matters of succession and alliances, Rhaenyra seized the moment to present her proposal. "To ease the tensions between our families," she began, her voice steady and clear, "I propose that my son, Jacaerys, be betrothed to Helaena. This union would strengthen our family bonds."

A murmur ran through the room, and all eyes turned to Alicent, who clenched her hands in her lap to keep her composure. "And to further show goodwill," Rhaenyra continued, "when Syrax lays her next clutch of eggs, Aemond may choose an egg for himself."

Alicent's face tightened, her distress at the idea of her daughter marrying a boy widely rumored to be a bastard threatening to show. She forced herself to remain calm, her voice measured as she replied. "While your proposal is... thoughtful, Princess, I counter with a suggestion of my own. Let Aegon and Vaella be engaged to each other instead."

Rhaenyra's eyes flashed with anger, but she controlled her temper. "That is out of the question," she said firmly. "Vaella deserves more than a life tied to Aegon."

Viserys, who had been silent, finally spoke up, his voice weak but resolute. "I agree with Rhaenyra. Aegon is my son, but he is not suitable for Vaella."

Alicent's composure slipped for a moment, her eyes blazing with frustration. "You did nothing to sever the link between them, Viserys. And now you dispute this match? How can Rhaenyra's son be good enough for Helaena, but our son is not good enough for Vaella?"

Viserys sighed, rubbing his temples. "Aegon is impulsive and lacks the qualities necessary to care for someone as precious as Vaella. She deserves a kind and understanding partner."

Alicent stood abruptly, her chair scraping loudly against the stone floor. "This is not about what Vaella deserves," she snapped, her voice shaking with barely controlled anger. "This is about your favoritism, your willingness to sacrifice my children’s future for the sake of Rhaenyra's."

Rhaenyra remained seated, her expression unyielding. "Alicent, this is not about favoritism. It's about what is best for Vaella and the realm. Jacaerys and Helaena's union would benefit everyone."

Alicent glared at Rhaenyra, her frustration and anger boiling over. "I will not allow my daughter to be used as a pawn in your game, Rhaenyra. This discussion is over."

With that, Alicent turned and stormed out of the chamber, her mind churning with resentment. How could Rhaenyra's bastard be deemed good enough for Helaena, yet Vaella be too good for her son? The injustice of it all gnawed at her, fueling her determination to find a way to secure her children's future.

Back in the council chamber, an uneasy silence settled over the room. Viserys looked tired, his earlier resolve waning. "Let us continue," he said quietly. "There are other matters to discuss."

Rhaenyra nodded, her mind already moving to the next topic, but the tension from the earlier confrontation lingered. She knew that Alicent's anger was far from quelled and that the coming days would bring new challenges. But for now, she focused on the task at hand, determined to protect her family and secure a future where they could all find peace.

…

Vaella Targaryen noticed the change in the atmosphere of the Red Keep after the birth of her sister Rhaenyra's third son, Joffrey. The castle felt like a simmering pot, ready to boil over. The departure of Harwin Strong and his father, Lyonel, back to Harrenhal only added to the tension. Whispers and sideways glances became more frequent, and the sense of unease permeated the halls.

One afternoon, as Vaella was wandering the corridors, she overheard some of the servants talking in hushed tones. "Did you hear? Princess Rhaenyra is taking her family to Dragonstone."

Vaella's heart skipped a beat. The idea of her sister leaving was unthinkable. She hurried through the winding passages, her mind racing with worry and confusion, until she found Rhaenyra in her chambers, packing her belongings.

"Rhaenyra!" Vaella cried, bursting into the room. "Is it true? Are you leaving for Dragonstone?"

Rhaenyra turned to her, her face calm but her eyes betraying the storm of emotions within. "Yes, Vaella. We are leaving."

Vaella felt a lump in her throat. "But why? Father will be devastated. And I can't bear the thought of losing you. Please, you can't leave me here."

Rhaenyra walked over to her sister and placed her hands on Vaella's shoulders. "You know why I must leave," she said gently. "The situation here is becoming untenable. For the safety of my children and myself, we need to be away from the court and its intrigues."

Vaella's eyes filled with tears. She knew the truth about the parentage of Rhaenyra's children, but it mattered little to her. They were her nephews, and she loved them dearly. "But people will talk no matter what you do," she said, her voice trembling. "Why can't I come with you?"

Rhaenyra sighed, her heart aching at the sight of her sister's distress. She pulled Vaella into a tight embrace. "You are so brave, Vaella," she whispered. "But I need you to stay here and look after our father. His health is failing, and he needs someone he can trust by his side."

Vaella clung to Rhaenyra, her tears soaking into her sister's dress. "I don't want to lose you," she said, her voice muffled.

Rhaenyra pulled back slightly, looking into Vaella's indigo eyes. "You won't lose me. We'll write to each other, and I'll visit whenever I can. But you must promise me that you'll be strong and take care of Father. He needs you more than ever now."

Vaella nodded, her heart heavy with the weight of the responsibility. "I promise," she whispered.

Rhaenyra kissed her sister's forehead, a bittersweet smile on her lips. "You are my heart, Vaella. And I know you will do great things. Stay strong, for both of us."

As Rhaenyra continued to pack, Vaella stood by, feeling a mix of sorrow and determination. The castle felt more oppressive than ever, but she knew that her sister was right. She had to be strong for their father, to be the anchor he needed in these troubled times.

The day Rhaenyra and her family left for Dragonstone, Vaella stood beside her father, watching the dragons take flight. The sky was filled with the beating of powerful wings, and Vaella felt a tear slip down her cheek. She glanced at Viserys, who looked frail and weary, a shadow of the king he once was. She took his hand in hers, squeezing it gently.

"Don't worry, Father," she said softly. "I'll be here for you. Always."

Viserys looked down at his youngest daughter, his eyes filled with a mixture of pride and sadness. "Thank you, Vaella," he whispered, his voice trembling. "You are my strength."

As the dragons disappeared into the horizon, Vaella felt a sense of resolve settle over her. She would honor her sister's trust and protect their father, no matter the cost.

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

A BIG IF DIVORCE... What do you think was the finally straw that broke the camels back so to speak, for him to say: I'm out of this marriage! After everything he's been through with her?

ooh, that's a good question...and a hard one. There's so much we don't know about the Sussex relationship/marriage and their day-to-day that I don't know we can pinpoint any one thing specifically as the final straw. It could be a bunch of little things adding up over the years. It could be one single act or transgression or event.

So going only by what we know publicly (which is all the PR, the interviews, the book, and the public record of events), my guess is it started with The Queen's passing and Harry's 40th birthday was the final death blow.

Putting aside the consequences of Megxit and generally speaking, Harry was - pretty much - on the same level as William before Her Late Majesty passed. They were both HRH dukes. They had royal estates residences. They had multimillion dollar portfolios. They (and their wives) had similar humanitarian interests. They were loved by the public and the public preferred them over most other members of the royal family. They each had military honors. They both served, Harry in the military and William with search and rescue. They and their families went on glamorous Foreign Office tours. They were besties with David Beckham. They were both personal aide-de-camps to The Queen. Sure, William had a little bit extra (the Order of the Garter, a Westminster Abbey wedding, and the 2012 LP for his children) to denote him as future heir, but for the most part, on paper, they were pretty similar.

Then The Queen passed. William's life/lifestle was upgraded in a huge way, like "double it and give it to the next person" kind of upgrade, while Harry got a shoutout in the new King's first speech. No new titles. No new honors. No new patronages. His HRH was in abeyance. He couldn't wear his military uniform. No aide-de-camp role for the new King. He'd been evicted from his royal property. No glamorous tours. The public tolerates his existence; they certainly don't prefer him over the rest of the family anymore. Fast forward eight months and he was, for the third consecutive time (and first without his wife), sidelined to the "extended family" section of the royal pews instead of directly next to his brother. Not included in official photographs and balcony appearance. Not invited to the diplomatic reception, the celebratory walkabout, the Big Lunch.

Now fast forward again 16 months, to September 2024. Harry's big 40th birthday, and he knows that the BRF celebrates milestone birthdays with commissioned articles, new portraits, new honors, title upgrades, and/or lavish parties. So he was wanted something and ended up getting...just a social media shoutout.

We know that something happened when The Queen died that made things shift for Harry. There's been credible gossip, a few leaks, plus Harry's own behavior/comments that The Queen's passing made him start waking up.

And then now consider the timing of everything that's been happening. First there was about 2-3 weeks of Harry's 40th Birthday PR where he was essentially negotiating with Meghan and the BRF about what he wantedfor his birthday, and he had to kept lowering his goal. It started with spending his birthday and the month in the UK, and he had to keep downgrading what he wanted. And he didn't even get that! He got to spend his birthday at someone else's birthday party and go to a charity tennis tournament (and he's not even a tennis guy!). He seemed miserable in those photos - the pap photos from the Tyler Perry party and the PR photos from the tennis tournament. I don't think he got much of anything that he wanted. Sure, it was nice that Charles and KP wished him a happy birthday on social media, but considering everything William got for his 40th birthday, plus everything William got when The Queen passed, Harry's inadequacy really had to be rearing up its ugly ol' head (and going by Spare and some comments made about how he was available to work for the BRF after Charles's and Kate's diagnoses were announced, I feel like there really was some jealousy or envy happening).

It was right after Harry's birthday is when the PR started about his big trip to New York, which turned into a trip to London, which turned into a trip to Lesotho, which turned into a trip to South Africa, which turned into "oh, I'll just stay here for a couple extra days to hang with family and friends" which turned into divorce watch...so I think something happened there with or around his birthday, and that may have been what led Harry to need, and get, some time away from Meghan

[rise-my-angel]

"# have many thoughts on why they adapted Rhaenys the way they did and all of them strip what makes her so cool and i hate it"

I'd actually love to read your thoughts, I have some of my own but they boil down to turning her into a bizarre mouth piece for the writers (which is what most of the female characters in HOTD feel like) and not allowing her to potentially outshine Rhaenyra which is why all the women on TB lack personalities, it's easier to write for one or 2 women than it is to write for a whole cast.

Rhaenys in the book and Rhaenys in the show are basically two completely different characters.

Princess Rhaenys in the show is not my friend. Princess Rhaenys in the book is cool as all hell and a true Baratheon under it all.

Under a read more, I wrote you a fucking essay I am so sorry.

There isn't as much about Princess Rhaenys in the book due to the narrative style of Fire and Blood, but what we do know paints a drastically different picture. Rhaenys has the purple eyes, and she flies Meleys, but thats all about her that is distinctly Targaryean.

She was born to King Jaeherys firstborn son and heir Aemon, and her mother was Jocelyn Baratheon. So she has the long, straight black hair of a Baratheon with a streaks of white throughout from her age, she was a great beauty but never described in ways that other Targaryean women are, more in a way that she is a great beauty in terms of a Baratheon.

She was a woman who was very clever, very quick witted, but she was also known to be fearless, she had a red hot fiery temper and much like her mothers house words, she was a fierce woman with a fury within her.

As Aemons only child, she was seen by many to be his heir when he became King. Queen Alysanne even calling her their "Queen to be". Alysanne and Jaehaerys often did trips around Westeros called progresses, which was personally going to a Lords castle or keep, spending time with them, holding court, solving local issues and using that time to bond with his highest subjects, which was part of why he held such a long reign of peace, he used his dragons pruposley to make travel easy and personally visited the homes of his people.

Rhaenys would join him on this after she claimed Meleys, going on some progresses around Westeros and she became a very popular royal figure amongst the nobility, notably in the Dustins, Manderlys, Blackwoods, Celtigars, and the Starks.

Now, yes Rhaenys was up for a claim at the great council, but she was actually rejected early on because she was a woman. She then persuaded these lords on her side to push for her sons claim, Laenor, and it is Laenor who lost in the final vote to Viserys, not Rhaenys. Rhaenys and Laena were both rejected and so she pushed for her son without a second thought, she was fine not being Queen, she was the eldest sons firstborn child and she put her firstborn son up to be King.

After word came that Lucerys was dead, it was she and Corlys who were actually in command of the Black Council at the start of the war because Rhaenyra was too in greif to rule.

Then her greatest moment, Rhaenyra was the one who ordered Rhaenys to Rooks Rest and without any reinforcement. Rhaenys of course, listened to her Queen, but the fight is different.

In the books, Criston Cole has set a trap. Lure a dragonrider out, and when they arrived, they would be ambushed by Aemond on Vhagar and Aegon on Sunfyre knwoing the two against one dragon would be enough to defeat them.

"Princess Rhaenys made no attempt to flee. With a glad cry and a crack of her whip, she turned Meleys towards the foe."

Rhaenys realizes she has rode into a trap.

She knows if it were Sunfyre or Vhagar alone she might stand a chance, but against both of them she knew she was doomed. She had time though, she could try and turn to leave. But, Rhaenys is in her blood, a Baratheon. Baratheons don't run from such dangerous odds, even when facing certain doom, she never let herself be controlled by that fear. She did what Baratheons do, and she turned around and fought with fury. With my favourite line about her describing her perfectly:

So, what are the main differences here from the show that are so wrong? Lets talk the two big ones:

Rhaenys being given the Targaryean look instead of the Baratheon look is an attempt to give the feeling that she is a true Targaryean and thats why she is such a fearsome dragonrider. But, in the books, she looks Baratheon, and her personality is textbook Baratheon. By stripping her of the Baratheon look, she show is propping her up more as a Targaryean which feeds into this show's strange relationship with Targaryeans being divine and special. By taking away the fact that Rhaenys was the first and only Baratheon born dragonrider, it downplays the fact that Rhaenys did not fit into the typical Targaryean dragonrider persona which most were at the time. It makes her look like a Targaryean alone, and it severs that relationship in Fire and Blood of the less of a Targaryean someone appears does not equate to being less capable of the feats they claim only they are special enough to do. Rhaenys isn't the books biggest example of that, but she is the big start of it.

By making the final vote at the Great Council come down to Rhaenys vs Viserys, it paints the man vs woman image. Rhaenys and Laena were rejected very fast, and it was Laenor, her son, who Viserys won against. Not Rhaenys. The entire show though, follows this idea. That Rhaenys lost because she was a woman and that dictates so much going forward. It dicates everything she pushes for, women in power, not being in service to men, but Rhaenys was never like that. Rhaenys did not fight against the world she grew up in, she navigated it despite of it. She did not promote this woman in power idea just because she was rejected. She was Jaeherys grandaughter, and he was a man who did not treat the women in his life as equals. She would be used to being passed over for men, her grandfather did it with almost every woman in his family to the point it drove his wife away. Rhaenys in the books didn't stand for anything. She didn't do what she did because she wanted to stand with a woman over a man. It wasn't about that. In the books, her and Corlys essentially pick the lesser of two evils. In their minds, standing with the Greens means her family and grandaughters will be at the mercy of Rhaenyra and Daemon, but standing with the blacks, she is at the mercy of Alient and Aegon. One of those two is a more dangerous foe to her family, and she sides with the family that gives her granddaughters a safer chance. It had nothing to do with anything and the show doesnt even establiush why she chooses Rhaenyra, she just does and then starts promoting the idea that Rhaenyra is the woman who wants peace not the men startingg war and it turns her into a mess who is onyl here to lecture the audience that the men are bad.

Really, my biggest gripe is, Rhaenys as a Baratheon dragonrider has a lot of potential. Due to the structure of Fire and Blood we don't spend a lot of time with her, but we do know that the relationship between the Baratheons and the Targaryeans is extremely tenuous and sore. The Baratheons have long since resented the Targaryeans, and Princess Rhaenys literally was supposed to be the bridge between the families.

Queen Alysanne married Aemon to Jocelyn Baratheon so that the Baratheons can have an heir one day on the Iron Throne and hopefully stop the fighting and resentment the Stormlords had towards them. But by rejecting her and her family at the Great Council, it reopens that old wound. And the Baratheons become disillusioned more and more when Viserys makes no effort to mend that bridge.

Rhaenys is a Targaryean raised dragonrider, who was distinctly Baratheon looking with the feirce personality of a Baratheon, and that contends a lot with what the Targaryeans all stood for especially at the time and it could make for a lot of great scenes revolving around what is wrong with the Targaryean legacy. The more like a Baratheon Rhaenys was, the more the Targaryeans stood out as people who were doomed to destory each other.

Rhaenys was born to be the child that mended the bridge between the Targaryeans treating the Baratheons like lesser then, when they had once been their strongest ally. By making Rhaenys just another Targaryean, it erases that conversation of why the Targaryens were bound to lose. That even when they married the Baratheons into the family, they still screwed it up because they couldn't get over their biases of looking down on the Stags.

Rhaenys had potentiol to showcase a time in history that foreshadows whats to come. For decades before the dance the Baratheons resented the Targaryeans, and after the dance, that resentment will continue to grow until it explodes during Roberts Rebellion.

By erasing her as a Baratheon, it erases the potential of showing why the Targaryeans were doomed to lose. They always treated their Baratheon allies as war fodder, just like throwing Rhaenys into battle without any backup, and her personality and looks standing out against the Targaryeans could have shown why the conflict of Roberts Rebellion was inevitable.

The Baratheons were always going to fight back against the Targaryeans one day, and hotd lost its chance to use Rhaenys to lay the first stones and show why.

But, that paints the Targaryeans in a more negative light, because the Baratheons are in the right to hate the Targaryeans. So, they erased everything about Rhaenys that stood out.

Even her death. A very Baratheon move, refusing to flee from certain death, because she was a woman with fury who was willing to face her enemy head on no matter what it was about to cost her.

Instead, she has a confusing death where her going back is framed as brave, but its not. Rhaenys in the books knew she might have stood a chance against Vhagar alone. So in the show, shes just turning back for a battle that she might win. In the books, shes against Vhagar and Sunfyre. Shes turning back towards a battle she knows she will lose, but she does not run, because she is a Baratheon, and they do not run from their enemies. They face them even towards certain death.

Also, book Rhaenys never exploded hundreds of smallfolk with her fucking dragon. She never did that.

[nexility-sims]

𝐍𝐎. 𝟏𝟔   ❛ 𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭 ❜   |  VARIOUS LOCATIONS, OCTOBER 1991

❧  𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲  /  𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠  /  𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬  /  𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭.

This was the second time Leonor had met Mencia Cipac, but it was the first time that felt like a real introduction. She found Mencia by the buffet laid out primarily for the crew. Mencia appeared to be expending a great deal of concentration as her long fingers hovered over the options, fluttering as she considered each one, pinching together over a choice only to pass over it. ‘Watching your figure?’ Leonor asked once her heels announced her approach. Mencia turned. There was a slimy piece of meat between her fingers, and Leonor wrinkled her nose. ‘Trying to decide if I want to practice vegetarianism today,’ was her response. Leonor regretted her question once a look of recognition clicked on Mencia’s face. That regret, she suspected, might cast long shadow over the rest of this conversation, and the formal one to take place next, too.

❧ another sleeper favorite ?? i didn't realize how profoundly sad this one is to me until i was editing the final screenshots for it. i'm not sure how many there will be, but this is one of those scenes that demonstrates what i love about prequels. you really get to see the shimmering possibility, knowing what happens if not how, and knowing that it is, at the end of the day, bound to tragedy. rip 2 leonor.

𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞 & 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭 ↓

This was the second time Leonor had met Mencia Cipac, but it was the first time that felt like a real introduction. She found Mencia by the buffet laid out primarily for the crew. Mencia appeared to be expending a great deal of concentration as her long fingers hovered over the options, fluttering as she considered each one, pinching together over a choice only to pass over it. ‘Watching your figure?’ Leonor asked once her heels announced her approach. Mencia turned. There was a slimy piece of meat between her fingers, and Leonor wrinkled her nose. ‘Trying to decide if I want to practice vegetarianism today,’ was her response. Leonor regretted her question once a look of recognition clicked on Mencia’s face. That regret, she suspected, might cast long shadow over the rest of this conversation, and the formal one to take place next, too.

Mencia misread the thoughts splayed on Leonor’s face. Once she swallowed the meat and rubbed her fingers into a napkin, she sought to reassure her.

“Stakes are low,” she offered. “I have softball questions.”

Leonor nodded. What did that mean? There was a spectrum of possibility and, although she had a hunch where Mencia sat, there were ways to find out for sure. With caution, she asked, “And if you could ask me one question, and I had to answer truthfully, what would it be? Hardball.”

It surprised her that Mencia didn’t take any time to consider it, although she realized that expectation was a mistake, too. More unnerving than anything else was the fact that Leonor had featured prominently in almost all of Mencia’s public writings. Yet, they didn’t know each other at all. She, as a journalist and an author, had devoted untold hours to contemplating Leonor’s life—the influence of her parents and grandmother, the quainter contours of her childhood, how she had come into her role as an heir, what could be gleaned from comparing her coming-of-age experience to that of other royal children. Leonor hadn’t read any of it. However, she did her research before these kinds of obligations, and she knew in a passive way that Mencia’s definitive book on “royal childhood” existed. Being an object of curiosity, of concern, of desire was one thing. Leonor hadn’t ever confronted how she felt about being an object of study. Now, finding herself beneath the microscope in an almost literal sense, she felt detachment—an estrangement from that very reality and the emotions it should engender, as if Mencia Cipac wasn’t a real person who was standing before her.

She wondered if Mencia felt the same way about her.

“I would ask—well.” Mencia cleared her throat and raised a hand, palm upward. She gesticulated with animation as she continued, “You can be anyone and do anything now. So, who is Leonor, if she’s not a princess anymore?”

Without pause, Leonor retorted, “That’s a dumb question. I still have my title.”

“As a symbol, a consolation prize. There are princesses in name only, like your aunts." Quickly, she followed up with a question. It wasn't asked with malice; there was no indictment in her tone. In fact, her tone softened as she spoke the words. "It doesn’t actually mean anything now, does it?”

Mencia's curiosity was gentle, but Leonor could only take it like a strike across the face.

“It does to me." There, abruptly, the emotions lunged forward.

Mencia replied, softer still, “Does it?”

Leonor considered for a moment whether she hated this woman, then she waved a hand to end the conversation. “Forget it," she said finally, turning away. “I hope your ‘softballs’ are better.”

Mencia allowed her walk away, but Leonor felt her eyes even once she was across the room and surrounded by makeup artists and assistants with questions about the lighting, her “good side,” whether she liked her water sparkling or still. Yet, it was easy to slip back into the professional mask that fit so well.

This would be deeply personal—that prelude, or opening volley, as it were, demonstrated as much—but it was exactly what she had told Renzo it was: work. People like Mencia Cipac got to eviscerate her on live television, and it was her job to comment in an aloof yet polite tone, ‘Why, yes, my insides are an interesting color, aren’t they?’ He had been correct that it would hurt. What she told herself then and as someone powdered her nose now was that it always did. Better yet, she couldn’t remember a time when she didn’t know how to handle the hurt inflicted on her—her, her People’s Princess Leonor.

In the back of Leonor's mind, however, Mencia’s question sowed some doubt. She didn’t handle the hurt as well when she was simply Nora. This self, as fragile as a newborn, was much less accustomed to this abuse. It had endured a kind of violence in the last year that she wasn’t wholly able to face. There was an open wound that wouldn’t heal, and she pressed on the tenderness around it as if testing her tolerance for the pain that caring for it would induce. Her tolerance wasn’t very high. More than just the question, Mencia’s insistence that Leonor had been stripped of something essential to her identity worried her. Was the mask cracked? Standing by the buffet with its heavy, nausea-inducing scents, had she looked Princess Leonor in the face and been able to see the unformed girl shrinking away beneath? If so, Leonor didn’t know how to fix it.

So, it couldn’t be.

She sealed off that shadowy area of her mind by the time they sat almost knee-to-knee with cameras trained on their faces. It wouldn’t be a live broadcast, but the announcement that they were rolling had the same effect. Mencia was a professional, too. Whatever she had said to Leonor was folded away, and they began talking as if they hadn’t tested the waters off-camera some fifteen minutes ago.

“My first question is straightforward,” she began. “But I imagine it’s on the mind of anyone who’s kept up with your life: are you okay?”

Leonor’s answer came with the plastic smile and good-natured laugh that such a question demanded. “Of course. We’re all much more ‘okay’ than we were a few months ago, and I’m grateful for that.”

Mencia nodded. “Diplomatic. Let’s get specific. You hadn’t been seen touching even a cigarette until six months ago, and now there’s constant chatter about serious substance abuse. Rumors about a contingency suite waiting at the Bancroft Center, in fact, given recent escapades. So, what is your experience—what’s your truth?”

Again, Leonor was prepared, and she translated the agitation into amusement as she had been taught. “Those rumors are categorically false,” she said, her voice firm. Mencia held her gaze, but Leonor was comfortably walking the line between truth and lies. “I won’t deny that I enjoy partying with my friends—there are photographs, of course—but what I choose to do with my free time isn’t newsworthy as long as it’s responsible and reasonable—which, it is.”

“New friends, right?” Mencia probbed.

Leonor shrugged. “I’m sure it’s relatable to expand your circle of acquaintances as you grow up. I’ve done a lot of growing up these last few years, even without accounting for what happened with my mother.” She added, cracking an honest smile, “You’re the expert on that, aren’t you, Miss Cipac?”

Mencia laughed, and Leonor noted she had a pleasant, almost unexpectedly delicate laugh. “Yes, I am,” she conceded. “There is an expectation that I sit here and grill you about the changes in your life, and I suspect it’s because many people are uncomfortable with change, particularly the kind that accompanies growing up. It’s hard for everyone, even our princesses.  I don't think I'm supposed to editorialize here, but it must be said.”

“Yeah, it is,” Leonor agreed. “I’ve tried to be a little adult for as long as I can remember, but maturity isn’t a straight line. And I’m not the same at twenty-one as I was at six, or sixteen, or even nineteen or twenty.”

Mencia raised her note card to her lips, contemplating what to ask next. Then, she asked, “How’s your relationship with your father these days? We don’t see much of him. I won’t get into the speculation—any of it—but I am interested in your experience, including how it varies from, say, that of your brothers."

Leonor realized that the conversation took a turn she wasn’t ready for. It wasn’t the question about her father, for which she had prepared, but rather the fact that Mencia wasn’t actually here to extract damning admissions born of frustration and embarrassment from her. Despite real misgivings, she had asked for Mencia Cipac to replace the journalist originally slated to conduct this anniversary interview.

The switch hadn’t made it any less nerve-wracking, but the way Mencia intervened at the Maypop Resort with what felt like genuine insight and concern had been arresting, once she allowed herself to consider it. She made the call while waiting for her plane back to Nakawe, before she shut off her mind again. Once Renzo gave her permission to go to him, the handful of hours in between felt agonizing. Feigning composure provided one distraction. Yet, as she sat in the back of her chauffeured car, then waiting in the airport's deserted private lounge, her thoughts spiraled. They circled as if down a drain—somewhere dark and narrow, constricting, suffocating.

That's what impending events felt like, at any rate. Soon, it would be the Water Time, and death would be everywhere, but she wouldn't be able to mourn just yet. A year hadn't passed. Rituals mattered. Rules mattered. She had already broken such a crucial one, and she couldn't risk another. So, they would mourn others instead, and she would be mindful. The time for hunters would come next. It gave way to the time of the sun, and that would—in a terrible turn of irony—forever become the darkest time of the year. More than just the calendar's ceremony, Leonor's sense of what was to come hinged on the royal obligations to which she still clung. This interview was among them; it was at the intersection of her twin losses, asking her to play daughter and princess, each versions of herself that did feel dead in their own ways.

Now, she remembered why she had made that call in the first place.

“Well, Mencia, it is strained,” Leonor said, letting the words spool out with control. “Loss does that, I think. When a family loses someone, it affects everyone left behind. It affects your relationships, somehow. For us, it has been hard to ... maintain ties while bereaved. His grief as a husband was different from mine as a daughter, right? Even if we both know what we’ve lost, together, as a family.”

Mencia nodded. “And your brothers? Are you close with them?”

Leonor allowed herself to remember the bright spots of their recent reunion and smiled. “I was on the beach with Mateo recently, and it was almost idyllic. We should be together more often, but life can get in the way. And, of course, with Gil, too. Mateo's grown up a lot as well, so maybe it's easier for us to connect than it used to be. Mama would like that.”

“Gil has a gaggle of cousins his age these days, as I understand it. Alright, on the topic of connections—“ Mencia began, pivoting while Leonor cringed. “Let’s set aside the gossip. Here's my question. A lot of people expected you would be married with children of your own sooner rather than later. That might have been an unfair assumption based on the idea that you were emulating your mother and grandmother in every other respect. Of course, we know that their choices were ultimately not easy or uncriticized. And, you said it yourself: people change. They grow up. Plans that were abstract before become real possibilities. So, right now, do you see that in your future, sooner or later—marrying, becoming a mother yourself? Do you want it to be?”

Perhaps naively, Leonor had a answer for a different question on the tip of her tongue. Mencia’s actual interest went deeper, and it was harder to brush off now that she had opened herself up to honest answers. She smiled like a pageant girl because she didn’t know what else to do. It gave the illusion that she was tickled by the prospect rather than terrified. A dozen answers flashed through her mind, all species of the same kernel of truth: she didn’t know. What she did know, however, was that it wasn’t the answer Uspanians wanted. They expected certainty because that’s what she was trained to give. More than that, they wanted to be able to hang their most romantic life aspirations on her; she was supposed to give them fantasies to bright their own lives, and that included a fairytale future with someone who completed her, plus their children, who would become reliable vessels for The People just like their mother before them.

Even if her job as a royal had shrunk down to its most inalienable parts, chief among them remained motherhood. To suggest that wasn’t a possibility, or that she was going to endanger it for unexplainable reasons, was risky. Indeed, she couldn’t say that marriage was synonymous with violence in her heart—that she knew better but believed a husband was someone who hurt you and loved you in equal measure. She couldn’t suggested that the title of “wife” had been soiled, too, in her heart. It was a small word, and it wasn’t sacred in an old way like “lover” or “mother, but she couldn’t remind the audience of that. Maybe she could begin to imagine herself traveling the world with someone and perhaps, by accident, having children whom other people ensured safety and security. Of course, the comparisons to her aunt Blanca were everywhere already, and they were not considered flattering, positive portents of a life well lived. She should aspire in public to be like Lorraine, or Olalla at worst—respectable, rooted, reliable.

Leonor suspected Mencia would understand if she admitted she didn’t know what she wanted yet, but they weren’t having this conversation for themselves.

As she finally began to answer, she clasped her hands tighter to prevent herself from fidgeting. “I love my mother. I idolized her, but I also love her because she loved me so well. She wasn’t perfect, but her love was. Being loved by her … I knew a lifetime of prayer wouldn’t cover it, how grateful I needed to be for her, but it’s something you don’t fully appreciate until it ends. Like a perfect day. Mama was nurturing, and she really saw my brothers and I as more than just extensions of herself—of the family. When I feel like I can give a child that, it’ll be the right time.”

Mencia smiled, and it was the kind of smile that tugged at the broken seams of Leonor’s heart. ‘She’s proud of me,’ she thought, allowing herself to smile, although not for the cameras.

“And marriage?” Mencia followed-up, apparently still determined to do her job.

“Similar."

In another pause, Leonor considered how significant whatever she said next might be. Perhaps it wouldn't matter at all. Yet, the small taste of torment that possibility aroused only further confirmed that she wanted to speak with care. “When I love someone enough—when I love them like First Mother loved First Father, so much that we ought to become one person but love each other too much to allow it—then it'll be time. They created love and children, not marriage, after all. First things first.”

“Well said, my princess." There was quiet for a moment, but Leonor's gaze remained low, so Mencia quipped, "I suppose they’ll slip an advertisement break in right about here—something unromantic, perhaps detergent or laxatives."

At this, Leonor had no choice but to laugh.

The conversation was easier after that. Mencia wanted to know about her work—how she liked collaborating with her uncle, if she shared her mother’s passion for higher education, what other passions she might pursue when their initiative was done. She wanted to talk about hobbies, which allowed Leonor to indulge in memories of watching her mother create beautiful watercolors and strolling galleries with her, hand in hand, rapt. The purpose of the interview was ultimately in that vein; there was red meat to entice viewers, but it was a memorial broadcast for a beloved woman. Leonor’s job was to speak to one of her many sides, the one that was a good mother. Her brothers were spared the task, and she tried to weave them into the narrative as best she could. When they finished, Leonor felt as if she had done her job.

Much later, she could allow herself to acknowledge that, if her mask had seemed cracked, she managed the crisis to the best of her ability. It was that impending recognition, however, that motivated her to reconsider her assessment of how the interview went. She sat in her chair while Mencia stood up, stretching and talking idly with the media people that stood around watching. Their conversation had last for just under an hour. Leonor wanted to stretch and walk around, too. An antsy sensation was rising up in her, something pacing might blunt. The smile of satisfaction slipped slowly from Leonor’s face as she retraced the conversation in her mind. As if rewinding a tape, it became ugly and unrecognizable.

“We have to do it again,” she declared, standing up. Her voice was loud and clear. Eyes turned to her. “Same questions. Redo.”

Mencia was wrong. Because her title was more than just a symbol or a post-death consolation prize, the room perked up when Leonor spoke. These people were divinely ordained as servants, and they understood that, if not in those exact terms. Leonor understood it in those terms, although she didn't always believe it. Somewhere along the line, that streak of cosmic egomania became uncouth. They dispensed with it. There was a loftier ideal in the family, just as old but better suited to have survived the age of revolutions—that they, the House of Tecuani, were burdened with service to these people, their People. It was true. It was why Leonor sat down to entertain them all with reflections on her dead mother, her poisoned father, the inscrutable future of her womb. Still, they leapt into action as soon as she issued this unreasonable, unilateral command. This grand exchange favored her; it was, more than the particularities of an occupational title, her birthright.

For her part, Mencia looked surprised. She hesitated and then, aided by the dragging weight of resignation, slowly lowered herself back into her chair.

TRANSCRIPT:

MENCIA | I'm sorry, I assumed you had someone lined up already.

??? V.O. | Well, plans change.

MENCIA | You could’ve called me first, but you didn’t.

??? V.O. | You were requested by name last minute. So, is that a yes?

She was the same age as me. I watched her on television as a child. She looked sweet. I would think to myself, “If I met her, if we lived in the same town, if she was my neighbor, we would be friends."

She wouldn’t say mean things. Wouldn’t have made fun of my nose or hair or the way I stuttered. Maybe could have taught me how to be like her. To smile nicely, to talk well, to be so sweet that everyone in the country loved you. If not, she would have been nice to me anyway.

I met her once, as a teenager. Education was her pet project even back then. She’d never been a student herself, not in Uspana’s schools, but they picked a few of us to get a scholarship she was sponsoring. We got to spend an afternoon with her, myself and some other girls.

It wasn’t what I’d imagined when I was younger. Talking to her wasn’t easy. But, I figured out that it was because the other girls were louder and more demanding of her attention, not because she didn’t like me.

I read the papers. I watched the coverage of her wedding. But, you know, life moved on for me, too. I didn’t get married. I went to college. My parents were psychologists, and I decided I’d join them.

My childhood was difficult in ways that had nothing to do with the life they provided for me. I was intrigued by that. I wanted to help other children who weren’t comfortable in their own skin. That was the plan.

Then, you were born.

Not news to you, but a new royal baby was quite the occasion. Sebastian was eight years earlier, which felt like a lifetime—plus, he wasn’t an heir. Funny, isn’t it? So close to your uncle. Anyway, I got a question in my head and wrote an article. Haven’t stopped writing about it since. “What does it mean for a child to be raised as royalty?” A lot, as it turns out.

MENCIA | Anyway, that’s how I “got into this.” People don’t usually ask.

LEONOR | Interview your interviewer. Basic prep work.

MENCIA | Stakes are low. I have softball questions.

LEONOR | And if you could ask me one question, and I had to answer truthfully, what would it be? Hardball.

MENCIA | I would ask—well. You can be anyone and do anything now. So, who is Leonor, if she’s not a princess anymore.

LEONOR | That's a dumb question. I still have my title.

MENCIA | As a symbol, a consolation prize. There are princesses in name only, like your aunts. It doesn’t actually mean anything now, does it?

LEONOR | It does to me.

MENCIA | Does it?

LEONOR | Forget it. I hope your "softballs" are better.

MENCIA | My first question is straightforward. But, I imagine it's on the mind of anyone who's kept up with your life: are you okay?

LEONOR | [laughs] Of course. We're all much more "okay" than we were a few months ago, and I'm grateful for that.

MENCIA | Diplomatic. Let's get specific. You hadn't been seen touching even a cigarette until six months ago, and now there's constant chatter about serious substance abuse. Rumors about a contingency suite waiting at the Bancroft Center, in fact, given recent escapades. So, what is your experience—what's your truth?

LEONOR | Those rumors are categorically false. I won’t deny that I enjoy partying with my friends—there are photographs, of course—but what I choose to do with my free time isn’t newsworthy as long as it’s responsible and reasonable—which, it is.

MENCIA | New friends, right?

LEONOR | I'm sure it's relatable to expand your circle of acquaintances as you grow up. I've done a lot of growing up these last few years, even without accounting for what happened with my mother. You're the expert on that, aren't you, Miss Cipac?

MENCIA | [laughs] Yes, I am. 

MENCIA | There is an expectation that I sit here and grill you about the changes in your life, and I suspect it's because many people are uncomfortable with change, particularly the kind that accompanies growing up. It's hard for everyone, even our princesses. I don't think I'm supposed to editorialize here, but it must be said.

LEONOR | Yeah, it is. I've tried to be a little adult for as long as I can remember, but maturity isn't a straight line. And I’m not the same at twenty-one as I was at six, or sixteen, or even nineteen or twenty.

MENCIA | How's your relationship with your father these days? We don't see much of him. I won't get into the speculation—any of it—but I am interested in your experience, including how it varies from, say, that of your brothers."

LEONOR | Well, Mencia, it is strained.

LEONOR | Loss does that, I think. When a family loses someone, it affects everyone left behind. It affects your relationships, somehow. For us, it has been hard to ... maintain ties while bereaved. His grief as a husband was different from mine as a daughter, right? Even if we both know what we've lost, together, as a family.

MENCIA | And your brothers?

LEONOR | I was on the beach with Mateo recently, and it was almost idyllic. We should be together more often, but life can get in the way. And, of course, with Gil, too. Mateo's grown up a lot as well, so maybe it's easier for us to connect than it used to be. Mama would like that.

MENCIA | Gil has a gaggle of cousins his age these days, as I understand it. Alright, on the topic of connections—

MENCIA | Let’s set aside the gossip. Here's my question. A lot of people expected you would be married with children of your own sooner rather than later. That might have been an unfair assumption based on the idea that you were emulating your mother and grandmother in every other respect. Of course, we know that their choices were ultimately not easy or uncriticized. And, you said it yourself: people change. They grow up. Plans that were abstract before become real possibilities. So, right now, do you see that in your future, sooner or later—marrying, becoming a mother yourself? Do you want it to be?

LEONOR | I love my mother. I idolized her, but I also love her because she loved me so well. She wasn’t perfect, but her love was. Being loved by her ... I knew a lifetime of prayer wouldn’t cover it, how grateful I needed to be for her, but it’s something you don’t fully appreciate until it ends. Like a perfect day. Mama was nurturing, and she really saw my brothers and I as more than just extensions of herself—of the family.

LEONOR | When I feel like I can give a child that, it’ll be the right time.

MENCIA | And marriage?

LEONOR | Similar. When I love someone enough—when I love them like First Mother loved First Father, so much that we ought to become one person but love each other too much to allow it—then it'll be time. They created love and children, not marriage, after all. First things first.

MENCIA | Well said, my princess. I suppose they’ll slip an advertisement break in right about here—something unromantic, perhaps detergent or laxatives.

[Leonor chuckles]

[purpleserpents]

insane ramblings

trying not to lose too much sleep over the latest leaks (and failing).

genuinely miserable thinking about alicent’s potential suicide attempt. the only thing that would make it even worse if she does it during some sort of random journey with criston outside of kings landing. there is speculation that this scene is somewhere in the crownlands. at the same time there is speculation that criston is not present in this scene because fabien wasn't on set with olivia.

my only sliver of hope is the rhaenicent end of season reunion, which i would say it's almost guaranteed. i'm guessing that they'll probably parallel the sept scene fairly heavily. i would love to see the inversion of roles taken to the fullest extent. in 2x03 alicent looks so regal in the sept, and rhaenyra meets her as a septa, dressed as a common servant of the realm. it would be crazy to now see dragonstone rhaenyra in her best dragon scale dress meeting alicent at her lowest point of the season, disheveled and suicidal, begging for some semblance of peace. i would probably cry but it would make for great storytelling.

my fear is that they’ll take the parallel too far because they can’t write for shit and alicent will leave somewhere that will make the story worse. olivia has mentioned alicent finding freedom in the final arc of this season, and this is really what's eating at my brain. the places alicent could go longterm:

dragonstone: if the rhaenicent reunion happens, she will have to stop at dragonstone regardless. some possible theories: 1) alicent could be taken prisoner here, but the fandom consensus seems to be that it's too early for that. this would also be the complete opposite of alicent finding her freedom, as olivia has implied. so i think this one is unlikely. 2) alicent stays in dragonstone with some sort of agency. i think the best possible version of this would be a full alicent turncloak arc. this would obviously be another huge deviation from the books, but i've seen some really interesting speculation about how if alicent had switched sides, TB could have spun it as alicent being taken captive, which would look a lot less bad. this would be so good -- it would call into question the way that history has been written, which is the best space for the show to exist in imo. there is also the snippet of rhaenyra saying "history will paint you as a villain" in a teaser, with the word "villain" being possibly dubbed in another language in the feminine form (i haven't confirmed this myself). this line could be definitely be said to alicent during their reunion, and, in my wildest dreams, could be part of the turncloak arc. the main thing that stands in the way of alicent turncloak actually happening (besides bad writing and the centuries long oppression of lesbians) is helaena. i don't think alicent could leave helaena and jaehaera alone. one day i will write about alicent, helaena, and jaehaera flying to dragonstone with dreamfyre, because i am insane. (but, seriously, if you were to write a turncloak alicent arc, it would be genius for alicent to bring her clairvoyant daughter - the enemy queen - and aegon's only heir over to the other side). they will never write this because they hate me.

oldtown: it would be an insane amount of traveling, especially if she has to meet rhaenyra first, but the leaks suggest she's going to oldtown. on one hand, they might be able to do something cool with daeron (thought he hasn't been cast). on the other hand, i think it would take some really good writing to paint alicent going back to her shitty father in oldtown as her "finding her freedom." to me, alicent going to her home town to be lady hightower would be a major character set back. it would be a different scenery, she would be far from her royal sons, but she would still be stuck in duty, just in a new font. i honestly don't want them to add oldtown scenes to the show. it will be another location, another story thread to follow. hopefully they don't do that, but they might choose to for some new season 3 terrain

nowhere?: alicent is clearly starting some sort of spiritual journey in kings landing in the last episode alone. hitting her breaking point, even leaving kings landing for the suicide attempt + rhaenicent reunion could be a freedom arc for a while, even if she comes back. i think it is possible that she will just come back to kings landing, and that we are associating freedom too much with alicent's physical location.

no matter what happens, the leaks feel insane but fairly plausible. the most unrealistic thing i see is the amount of fast traveling. having alicent do a continental tour of westeros feels like a really dumb way to attract similar criticism to later seasons of got.

i have to laugh, i could be living my life like a normal person if i had never started this show

[guilty-pleasures21]

The heretic princess

I got this idea stuck in my head from the book ‘The Heretic Queen’ by my favourite historical fiction writer Michelle Moran. And don't worry, I've already written all the parts except for the last one, but I'll finish it up so I can post this weekly without delay.

Note: I’ve not explicitly referred to the setting because I don’t want to misrepresent anyone’s culture and offend anyone, even if unintentionally. However, this is set in ancient times where their views of childhood and marriage differed from most modern civilisations today.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Warnings: None ...? I don't think?

----------------------------------------------------------

     “I bet I can make my stone skip more times than yours,” Kai challenges Miguel, tossing his stone up and down in his hand nonchalantly. 

     Miguel's lips purse in annoyance and he folds his arms across his chest. “You dare challenge your future king?!”

     You laugh at Miguel's imposing tone and place a hand on his arm. “What are you going to do, Miguel, command your stone to skip more times than Kai's?”

     Kai joins into your laughter and despite his best efforts, Miguel's lips curl into a smile at the look of delight on your features. 

     “What are you guys doing?” The three of you turn to follow the voice and find Dina picking her way carefully over the stones on the riverbank. You and Kai roll your eyes in disappointment and turn your attention back to your game. 

     “Nothing that would interest you,” Kai mumbles, his abrupt tone indicating his dislike of the girl. But Dina continues making her way towards the three of you, undeterred.

     “Well, why don't we find out?” She lifts her head to smile at Miguel, but her expression melts into one of horror as she trips and starts falling forward. Miguel quickly leaps towards her, catching her before she can hit the ground.

     “Are you all right?” he asks, letting her continue to hold onto him even after she'd already steadied herself. She meets his gaze and you huff as you notice Miguel’s eyes widen slightly at the dazzling smile she shoots him. 

     “No thanks to you, my Prince.” 

     Miguel clears his throat and takes a small step away from her, a slight blush crawling up the back of his neck. 

     “It was no problem, really,” he reassures her, his lips curling slightly at the ends as he sneaks a glance at her. You turn to Kai, arms folded across your chest in irritation. 

     “What is she doing here?!” you hiss, quietly enough so that Miguel doesn't hear. Kai sighs and shuffles closer to you.

     “Apparently, the advisors want them to be married when he becomes co-regent,” he reveals softly. Your heart drops into your stomach at the suggestion. Miguel?! Marrying Dina?!

     “Why?!” you whine, more upset than confused. Kai raises an eyebrow at how disturbed you seem by the idea. You calm yourself quickly, regaining your composure, but your eyebrows remain set in a hard line as you wait for his explanation. 

     “Well, her father is the chief Royal Advisor. Of course he would push for her to marry the next King,” he replies easily. You wrinkle your nose at his simple logic.

     “But Dina would make a terrible queen!”

     “She doesn't have to be queen though,” Kai points out quickly. “She just has to give Miguel heirs.”

     You clutch your stomach as it roils at the very thought of Dina and Miguel having children together. Gross! You bend over, trying to fight the nausea overcoming you and finally, Miguel rushes back to your side.

     “Y/N?! Are you all right?” He moves his hand in soothing circles across your back, wanting to make you feel better, but all it does is make you feel even more hot and uncomfortable.

     You take a step away from him and your movements cause the confused look on his features to intensify.

     “I-I'm all right,” you reassure him weakly. “Just a little hot.”

You pull back the collar of your dress and flap it as if to prove your point and Miguel relaxes a little.

     “Would you like to go for a swim?” he suggests, gesturing to the shallow water beside you. You finally meet his gaze and your stomach curdles when you see the concern etched onto his features. You shake your head and Miguel exchanges a puzzled look with Kai.

     “I think I'd rather just go inside and lie down,” you tell him. 

     “We'll walk you back,” Miguel offers, looping his arm through yours. Kai supports you on your other side and together, the three of you head back to the palace.

     You stare into the mirror as your nursemaid combs oil through your hair. She would know about the rumours regarding your best friend's purported wedding - the servants were always in the know, silently disappearing into the furniture as the nobles spoke freely about their darkest secrets. “Meena?”

     “Hmm?”

     You wring your hands together as you summon up the courage to ask her the question. “Are Miguel and Dina going to get married?”

     Meena doesn't pause the movements of her fingers through your hair as she replies to your question. “Why would you ask that?”

     You hesitate again, trying to figure out why it bothers you so. “I was just … Kai mentioned it today … and I wanted to know if it was true. Would he really marry Dina?”

     You meet her gaze through the mirror, your eyes wide with horror and her lips curl ever so slightly at the ends.

     “He might,” she admits coolly. “She has grown up in the palace, after all, and her father is the chief Royal Advisor.”

     Your lip quivers at your nursemaid's implicit confirmation of the rumours. “But I have grown up in the palace too! And my mother was the sister of the last true Queen!”

     “Hush, child!” Meena frowns at you in disapproval and moves around to look at you properly. “You are not meant to say such things, princess! The King had very generously permitted you to keep your title and allow you to remain in the palace. You would do well to acknowledge his kindness.”

     You bow your head, embarrassed by your childish outburst. You were thirteen now - far too old to be scolded like a little child. Meena's expression softens at the look on your face and she returns to her place behind you to start braiding your hair. 

     “Besides,” she continues, “what does it matter to you if the prince marries Dina? Would you like to be married to him instead?” 

     She sneaks a glance at you through the mirror and smirks as you begin blushing furiously at her suggestion.

     You?! Marry Miguel?! But he was … he was a boy! A boy you’d grown up with like your own brother! You lower your head as a warm flush creeps over your entire body.

     “Never mind that for now, little kitten,” Meena dismisses you gently. “Let's get you to bed.”

     You lie down and wait for your nursemaid to tuck you under the covers - just as she always does every night. You were still a child after all; still too young to be thinking about marriage to anyone let alone the future king.

     Miguel stormed into his father’s study, his body hot with rage after he'd learned of your departure the night before. How could you … How could you leave him?! Just like that?! Without even saying goodbye! And why had you left him anyway?! You were happy here! With him. 

     “Father!” he exclaimed as soon as he saw him. “You have to bring her back! You have to … You have to command those priestesses to bring her back here, now!”

     The king raised an eyebrow, amused by his son’s childish tantrum. “Bring who back, my son?”

     “Y/N!” Miguel responded. “She can’t … She can’t leave! She is needed here! Not at the temple with those … with those …” He paused, struggling to find a word to describe the priestesses without outright insulting them - they were the representatives of the Goddess, after all, and even he wouldn’t dare insult a Goddess. No matter that they had just stolen his best friend in the entire world from him. 

     His father chuckled and set his scroll aside. His son was seventeen now - old enough to leave the school and begin his official training to become the next king. And yet, here he was, whining like a child, begging his father to bring his friend back. “And what reason would I have to make such a challenge to the Temple?”

     Miguel frowned, frustrated. Why did his father not understand?! You were meant to be by his side. Always! “Because … Because she is mine!”

     The king laughed, delighted by his son’s childish innocence. 

     “I am afraid that is not a good enough reason, my son,” he informed him, turning back to his desk in dismissal. “Find me another and I might consider it.”

[sweetbonniebel]

Unbent,unbowed,unbroken

Chapter 2

Aemond/ Aegon/ Jacaerys x fem! Targaryen! Martell! reader

Synopsis: The Martell family left Kings Landing, leaving (y/n) alone in the capital. But to her advantage the heir to the throne princess Rhaenyra took interest in her.

Chapter one Chapter three

Kings Landing 122 ac

“Your highnesses.” The Martell Lady bowed gently before the five royal children, there was an empty chair between princess Halaena and prince Jacaerys. She took the hint and gracefully took her place and bowed gently to the royals once more.

“It is so wonderful to meet you lady (y/n).” The princess Haelaena said warmly, putting her gentle hand on hers. The Martell nodded in return. “What magnificent eyes you have… they will match the beast that lives in your dreams.” She murmured silently, her hand gripped tighter those of (Y/N)’s.

“Do not pay her any mind, she is an lunatic.” The prince Aegon said, he held onto the wine goblet as if his life depended on it. His younger brother kicked him under the table.

“I do not mind my prince, I’m sure the princess is wonderful company.” The Martell smiled warmly at the older girl, she returned the kind gesture. (Y/N) was not sure how to act in the presence of the royal family. She was used to her family and other bannermen of her house, along with different courtiers of her mother, however she was always chaperoned by her septa. She nervously picked at the roasted lamb on her plate, she could feel the intense gaze of Aegon on her figure.

“Have you ever seen a dragon, my lady?” Aegon asked cheekily, (Y/N) raised her gaze from her plate. Curiously she shook her head in a no and put her fork down. Before Aegon could respond to the silent response his younger brother kicked him under the table once again. She raised her brows at that short interaction between the brothers.

“Would you like to see my dragon, (Y/N)?” Halaena interrupted both of her brothers, turning to the Dornish girl she beemed happily.

“I would love to my princess.” She nodded

“Let us go, at once!” Helaena said happily, standing up quickly and grabbing the hand of the younger girl.

…

Helaena as a royal princess was granted her leave without question, two guards and a septa were to escort the two ladies. Halaena and (Y/N) walked hand in hand towards the dragon pit.

“What is life like in Dorne, I have never visited the south.” Helaena asked suddenly, (Y/N) smiled warmly at the mention of her home. She openly told the princess of her fond memories. “You must be saddened by the fact that you will stay behind.” She murmured, the Martell nodded silently.

The walk to the dragon pit passed by quickly, the conversation keeping the both girls occupied. When they finally arrived (Y/N) could hear the roar of the flame breathing beast, she was fascinated by the mystical being, before only reading about them in books.

Dreamfyre was a slender she-dragon with scales of blue and silver, her rider princess Helaena excitedly walked towards her mount, the dragon roared quietly happy to see the Targaryen. Helaena motioned the Martell to come closer, the girl slightly nervous shuffled to the princess.

“She is beautiful, your highness.” (Y/N) sighed dreamily, looking at the dragon.

After the brief encounter with the blue beast the two princesses were escorted back into the keep. The celebration was as lively as ever, even in the hour of the eel, her younger siblings were surely asleep by now. Her family was to leave after the celebration was over, she saddened at the thought. But nonetheless she was escorted to her chambers for the night, the maids undoing her gown and braids, she was bathed and dressed into a white linen nightgown, her hair set free.

The maids left after their lady got into bed, the unfamiliar sheets made falling asleep hard for the princess. She tossed and turned, but sleep was not on her mind. What occupied the young Targaryen’s thoughts was the blue she-dragon, she felt at home next to the beast her new thoughts somehow lulled her into sleep.

…

The beast’s scales shined in the moonlight, the black and purple wings were spread looming a huge shadow on the ground below. It’s eyes cold and mysterious searched for prey to devour whole, it’s teeth the size of a human man could rip apart even stone. The beast let out a ear shattering roar and breathed magnitude of golden flames, burning alive the small herd of deer, it snatched the animals in his claws and flew away.

…

The Martell princess awoke with a gasp, cold sweat covered her thin body. She looked around to see her handmaiden opening the curtains in her chamber.

“Your family is departing soon, my lady.” She bowed gently and rushed back to her chores. (Y/N) nodded slowly, her mind was plagued by the images of the black and purple beast. Pushing those thoughts aside, she rose from the bed and took a deep breath, she will have to say goodbye to her family, for the gods know how long.

The maid tied the red dress on her petite body, and brushed her long silver locks putting them into a braided bun. She dismissed the maid as she heard a knock on the door.

“Lady (Y/N), I am here to escort you to your family.” A guard’s voice said, muffled by the thick door. The young girl nodded silently and moved to open the door.

“Lead the way ser.” She spoke quietly, her hands clasped in front of her as she nodded at the large man. He nodded silently and led the way, his armor clicked with every step as he held tightly onto his sword.

The walk was quiet, most of the court was still asleep or healing their morning fog. (Y/N) tried to hold back tears at the thought of being alone in Kings Landing.

“My little dragon” Morion Martell exclaimed at the sight of his daughter. The girl ran to her father, he easily caught her in his arms, holding her close to him.

“I will miss you so much father” She sobbed into his shoulder, the tears fell freely as her father shushed her while caressing her hair.

“I will write you every week, my sweetling” he assured his eldest child. She nodded at his words and let her father go, she walked to her step mother and hugged her silently. Her younger brother Quentyn, tugged on his sisters skirt, she turned and lowered herself to his level, she hugged her little brother tightly.

“Your carriage is ready, my prince.” A guard interrupted the Martells, motioning towards the carriage that was to take them to the port of black water bay.

Morion glanced at his daughter, then back to the carriage. He knelt, lowering himself to his daughters eye level, the dornish prince placed his hand on his daughters silver locks.

“My daughter you are the of the blood of Dorne and fire made flesh. Remember our words, unbent, unbowed, unbroken, people in the capitol are treacherous, do not trust anyone.” He spoke sternly looking her daughter deeply in her mismatched eyes. The girl nodded, her eyelashes wet with tears her father caressed her rosy cheeks, he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

“I love you, my little dragon.” He spoke gently, this was it. Her family is to leave for Sunspear and she will stay here. She waved gently at her little siblings and mother that sat in the carriage. As the horses trotted to the gate, (Y/N) was left in the courtyard.

…

(Y/N) was escorted back into her chambers, she noticed that even her handmaiden went back to Dorne. They were replaced by new ones, an elder woman named Lysa and a girl a few moons older than the Dornish princess, her name was Talana. As her father warned her, she did not trust the new maids.

A knock interrupted the thoughts of the young girl, she raised her brows curiously.

“My lady, ser Harwin Strong.” Her maid announced, she nodded to open the doors.

“Lady (Y/N), princess Rhaenyra has requested your presence to break fast with her family.” A well build knight with dark curly hair exclaimed.

The girl nodded slightly and followed after the tall knight. Princess Rhaenyra the heir to the iron throne, a woman first in it’s history. The young Martell princess admired strong women throughout history, and now that included the princess Rhaenyra. As Dorne was a more tolerant kingdom than others, women were not barred from the line of succession and believed to be equal to their male counterparts. However that was not the case in most of Westeros, especially king’s landing.

The burly knight of the city watched opened heavy double sided doors that lead to the royal dining room, the noise from opening the doors put attention on the Martell princess.

“Ah lady (y/n), please come sit.” The heir motioned to the empty seat next to her eldest son, Jacaerys the eight year old Velaryon boy, with wavy brown hair and eyes, and a pug nose. The lack of similarity between his father and himself was quite obvious, perhaps the Baratheon blood was strong.

“I am sorry to hear that you have been separated from your family, but please feel welcome here. We are family, are we not?” The princess humored the obviously glum young girl.

“Thank you, your highness. It’s an honor to join you.” She said nicely, Rhaenyra nodded and looked at her husband, the lord Laenor Valeryon.

“Jace perhaps you can show lady Martell around the keep, I’m sure ser Harwin will keep you company.” Rhaenyra proposed and her eldest son looked unsure at the girl next to him. He cleared his throat and turned slightly towards (y/n), he fumbled with the sleeve of his top.

“Lady (y/n) would you like to do so?” He asked

“It would be my pleasure, my lord.” She sounded her opinion.

“Please call me by my name, we are family and almost the same age.” Jace chuckled happily and the Dornish lady smiled at that.

“Then please, feel free to address me by my name as well.” She responded a small smile crept up onto her lips.

The royal couple looked at each other knowingly, they exchanged silent words about the two children.

…

Jace proved to be an outgoing, adventurous and bold young man. He moved quickly and explained in great detail everything he knew about the red keep, because of his lack of knowledge the explanation were rather short but nonetheless interesting. The magnificent structure was a piece of history build by the conqueror and perfected by the cruel. The tall knight followed slowly after the two kids, he gazed lovingly at the interactions between them.

“Jace could we explore outside?” The girl asked, Jace’s eyes shone with excitement. He jumped to (y/n) and took her by her shoulders.

“That is an magnificent idea! We should go see my dragon! His name is Vermax, he is still small but so ferocious!” He rambled excitedly about his mount and (y/n) smiled at the happy moment.

As Lady (y/n) and prince Jacaerys were escorted to the dragon pit by horse. The prince rode a beautiful grey and white spotted horse while the lady Martell rode a large brown stallion.

The ride to the home of the dragons was quiet, the soft latter of hooves and whistles of the wind created a calm atmosphere. That however was suddenly Interrupted by a ferocious roar that came from the sky.

“Looks like the rouge visits Kings Landing once more” Ser Harwin mused looking up at the sky to see a large winged shadow.

“The rogue?” The Martell princess asked curiously glancing upwards. The roar of the beast seemed oddly familiar.

“He is a wild dragon, maybe the size of Vhagar! He looms over the capital from time to time, stealing large herds of sheep and other cattle.” Jace muttered glancing at the princess.

“Do you know what it looks like?” She asked another question but to her dismay.

“Unfortunately no, nobody has seen him only his shadow. My mother said that her great grandmother the Queen Alysanne has seen the beast, she spoke of him as a black and purple fury that breathed golden flames. But she was old and delirious so nobody can be sure.” The prince muttered and the Dornish princess widened her eyes

Black and Purple scales?

Golden flames?

Those colors were possessed by the beast from the Dornish princesses dreams.

…

@itszzmoon

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

The Love of a Princess - Rooster

Pairing: Rooster / Simpson!OC (Princess Alexandra)

Word Count: 2.3k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only

Series Warnings: (Modern-ish) Royal AU; Meant to Be Set in 1920s/1930s; AU Country/World; Inspired by History; Royal Protocol; Bodyguard AU; Implied Very Much Legal Age Gap; Mentions of Arranged Marriage; Mentions of Social Construct of Virginity; Sexism; Angst; War and Politics; Eventual Non-Descript and/or Implied Sexual Content; OCs

Series Summary: When Princess Alexandra is sent to the countryside to allow her father, King Beau, to deal with pressing state issues, she views it as a banishment. But with Lieutenant Bradshaw of the Royal Navy accompanying her, perhaps she can finally find the freedom she's been searching for her whole life.

A.N. Very lightly inspired by the first two seasons of the Crown, but it's not meant to reflect that or take on a distinctly British tone.

Master List

Part 2

There was always a silent freedom of the early morning, when the sun was just starting to rise and drops of dew were still forming on the blades of grass. It was her father, the King, that taught her that it was the early hours of the morning where she would always find the most peace in the day.

It was when she was allowed to be herself, and not the Princess, Heir Apparent to the Throne. When the weight of the day had not yet fallen on her shoulders, and she could still breathe freely. And when for just a moment, she could enjoy complete serenity.

As such, there was rarely a morning that Princess Alexandra was not out in the gardens or even a ride when she was out in the country. And this morning was no different.

Sitting on a stone bench in the middle of the gardens—as far away from the walls of the palace as she could get without a chaperone—Princess Alexanda quietly read her book, humming to herself as she reached to take a small sip of her coffee. She just needed a few moments to herself before her country called for her and she was forced to become Princess Alexandra.  

From her conversation with her private secretary the night before, she understood that today involved more meetings with stuffy statesmen. Ones that viewed her as a silly little girl playing dress up in the role of the future queen, yet none of them could actually say it or even think it too loudly. And Alexandra was tired of it.

“You should be getting ready for your meetings,” a voice called from her left, causing her to look up suddenly from her book.

“You know how I feel about those meetings,” Alexandra sighed, turning away from her father and back to her book. “Besides, my outfit is already selected for me, down to the earrings and even the stockings. My schedule has been picked for me. And even the words that should travel from my brain to my mouth have already been decided without me.”

“I thought you normally had coffee when you came out here to read?” King Beau mused, resting his hands on his knees.

“I do.”

“Then why are you still so crabby?” he teased his eldest daughter, nudging her with his elbow. Alexandra shot her father a look but it quickly dissolved into an amused smile. “It will get easier with time. I promise, my dear.”

“More automatic, you mean,” she sighed, marking her book before shutting it.

“Perhaps,” he replied softly. “But you’ll find your way, Alexandra. Your own way.”

“I will certainly try.”

“I know that you will. But right now, you should get back to your room and get ready for today before you scare your maid. There are military men coming today. And military men are always on time. You can’t be late.”

“Alright,” Alexandra replied, getting up from her seat. Pressing a kiss to his cheek, she bid her father goodbye. She made it a few steps before turning on her heel and asking her father, “Who’s coming today that’s so important?”

~~~~~

“Remind me again why the princesses need additional security? And from a man like me, no less?” Bradley asked, walking a step behind his uncle into the palace.

“Tensions are rising across the globe. The King quietly wants the princesses to be shuttled out to the countryside while he’s in intense meetings all day.”

“He doesn’t want to alarm them?”

“I would think so. He doesn’t need distractions. It’s a very delicate situation everywhere and the princesses are young.”

“The future queen is very much an adult,” Bradley pointed out to Maverick.

“In age, certainly. But in the eyes of the country and of the government, not entirely,” Maverick replied, taking the steps in front of him quickly.

“But why not?”

“It’s complicated.”

“That’s a bullshit answer.”

“Do not swear when in the palace,” Maverick hissed, nudging Bradley with his hand. “And be careful here. There are ears in the walls.” Maverick quickly adjusted Bradley's medals and straightened out his collar before shooting Bradley another look. “Just get through today and then you can act like a normal human being again.”

Bradley nodded and followed his uncle’s lead. They walked into a grand room where several gentlemen were mingling. Most of them were in military uniforms, but there were still a fair number of aristocrats running around the place. Probably annoyed at all the commoners running around, if Bradley had to guess. But he stood silently as Maverick led him over to Ice.

“Prime Minister Kazansky,” Maverick greeted, causing Ice to turn.

“Captain Mitchell,” he returned, shaking Maverick’s hand as if they were meeting for the first time. But the smiles shared between them clearly showed a level of familiarity that Ice didn’t share with the other high-ranking officials in the room. Ice turned to Bradley and extended his hand again, as if he was not at Bradley’s military academy graduation, “And Lieutenant Bradshaw.”

“Prime Minister,” Bradley stated, struggling a bit to hide the familiarity in his tone.

“Are you prepared for your next mission, Lieutenant?” Ice asked, folding his arms behind his back.

“Yes, sir. I have studied the mission extensively, as I would any military operation,” Bradley replied, sharing a look with Maverick. “Though, I must admit that I don’t know why this mission has become mine in the first place.”

“There were several factors at play,” Ice explained quietly, keeping his voice low. “The King served in the Royal Navy and therefore trusts a Navy man more than he would another. Your record is exemplary, and your personal recommendations are pristine. You are young and agile. And you don’t have any record of being a fanatic concerned with the Royal Family.”

“Fanatic?” Bradley repeated, confused.

“Fanatic, yes. The Princess is still unmarried, of course, and as she is of marrying age, the King does not want any fanatics or obsessive social climbers anywhere near her.”

“Then why did he invite them?” Maverick asked dryly, gesturing to a group of nobles on the other side of the room. At Ice’s expression, Bradley turned to Maverick with a small smirk. “Looks like I’m not the only one who doesn’t know proper decorum at these events, Mav.”

“If you would all please get into your order,” a voice boomed from the entryway.

Bradley followed Maverick and stood at the very end of the line. Straightening up, he stared ahead, waiting for the King and Princess to finally arrive. He had seen photos of them, of course, but meeting them in person was different. The black and white of the photos still hid details that Bradley felt like he needed to know if he was going to act as a guard to the three princesses.

The doors opened as Bradley turned his head to watch the King step into the room and greet Ice at the head of the line. Maverick told Bradley that the King was a bit stuffy and a stickler for the rules, but when one truly got to know him outside of his duties, he was a man of exceptional character with a strong, caring nature.

Turning his head again, Bradley paused when he saw the Princess Alexandra step into the room.

Her hair was curled and pinned back into place in a bun that Bradley was sure could probably survive a bomb. She wore a simple gray dress and coat with matching heels, looking a bit like an accountant as she followed a few steps behind her father. And the necklace around her neck was quite simple for the future Queen.

But when she looked down the line and briefly locked eyes with him, there was no mistaking her for an ordinary woman. Her gaze was sharp, calculating, analyzing every minute detail put in front of her, down to the shine of each medal on each man’s chest and the quality of the thread below it. Her quietness that the papers liked to discuss was not timidness, but simply a pause.

Like a lioness waiting in the grass for the right moment to strike.

~~~~~

Princess Alexandra had been through about a thousand lineups in her life and every single one was as boring as the last. There were never people that she wanted to meet—scholars, artists, individuals who did not treat her like a dainty doll that they could manipulate as they pleased, but rather a strong woman with her own thoughts.

No, it was just a lineup of stuffy statesmen and nobles that all thought she was an idiot waiting for her chance to burn it all down through her own delusion.

But she didn’t mind Prime Minister Kazansky.

“Your Royal Highness,” Ice greeted her with a nod of his head, “it is a pleasure to see you again.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Prime Minister,” she returned, shaking his hand briefly. “And please tell me that I have the continued mercy of having you at my side at lunch.”

“Indeed, miss.”

“Good,” she stated with a genuine smile before she was ushered on.

Going down the line of statesmen and nobles, she had to bite back a grimace when she saw the next man in the lineup. Michael Warrington, the next Earl of Avon. And the man who seemed so intent on seducing her that it was honestly laughable. She had about as much interest in his serpentine smile, bad breath, and small mind as she had interest in getting shot in the face.

“Lord Warrington,” she greeted him politely.

“Your Royal Highness, it is a pleasure to see your beautiful face again,” he drawled, shaking her hand for a bit longer. Thank goodness she was wearing gloves, or she would have to thoroughly sanitize her hands after this encounter. “We missed your presence at the races. I believe you are a good luck charm for our horses.”

“You are too kind, Lord Warrington.” As she turned to the next man in the line, she muttered under her breath, “Really too kind.”

Making her way down the rest of the way, Alexandra came to the last two men in line. They were both dressed in naval uniforms that were freshly pressed and medals that were recently heavily shined. But she could tell that they were both not used to these events. And that automatically made them more interesting to her.

“The Captain Peter Mitchell of the Royal Navy,” her attendant introduced Maverick to her.

“Captain Mitchell,” she stated, extending her hand for him to shake. “My father has told me a great many stories of your valiance in the Royal Navy.”

“I do hope only the stories that paint me in a good light, Your Highness.”

“Only those that paint him in a good light, I’m afraid,” she replied with a note a humor in her tone. “What brings you to our fine palace today, Captain Mitchell?”

“Military matters, miss.”

“Of course.”

“And the matter of your security, as well.”

“My security?” Alexandra repeated, trying to not show her confusion.

“Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw of the Royal Navy,” her attendant continued, pushing her along.

With her usual stately mask slipping, Alexandra stepped to the side, turning to the man standing beside Maverick, whom her father had been talking to for a few moments longer than the other guests. Looking up at the lieutenant, she felt her cheeks instantly warm with girlish embarrassment that she swore she had outgrown.

He was tall, but not gangly. Nowhere near gangly. The white fabric of his naval uniform was absolutely pristine and outlined the size of his strong frame. His face was tanned, showing that he spent much time out in the sun, and he wore a finely trimmed mustache on his upper lip that framed his plump lips.

She wouldn’t mind statesmen who looked more like him.

“Lieutenant Bradshaw,” she greeted him, offering him her hand.

“Your Highness,” he returned politely, nodding his head to her before shaking her hand. “It’s an honor to meet you.”

“The honor is all mine, Lieutenant,” she stated softly.

“Alexandra,” her father called, causing her to turn to him, “Lieutenant Bradshaw will be joining you and your sisters in the country.”

“Wonderful,” was all she managed, shooting Bradley a small smile. “Well, I look forward to spending more time with you, Lieutenant.”

“I as well, Your Highness.”

Alexandra nodded back to Bradley before following her father towards the dining room where the state lunch would be taking place. When they were a few steps away, her stately expression slipped, and she turned to her father with a look that her mother used to shoot him when she knew that details were being kept from her.

“I’m supposed to go to the country with Ellie and Sophie next week?” she asked quietly, but with a strong measure of force behind her words. “And with a guard?”

“Something has come up,” Beau replied just as quietly as they approached the table. “We will discuss it later tonight.”

“Or never at all?” Alexandra needled, pursing her lips together.

She shot her father one last look before walking around to her side of the table. Beau took a breath before moving to do the same. He was never concerned that his eldest daughter would be able to keep herself composed at these state events. But he was concerned for the sharpness of her words afterwards.

Bradley found himself at the end of the table, but yet he could still see the Princess standing in the middle, beside Ice. She kept her composed expression, but the daggers in her eyes only seemed to have sharpened.

The lioness was getting ready to pounce.

Part 2

[thelonewolf48]

Hello, Blank the series community!

How are we processing the ending of season 1? Are you angry? Do you understand Khun Neung's actions? Do we want to hit her? Yes, you say? 🤣🤣🤣

I wanted to wait a bit (also got busy at work lol) to avoid any spoilers for anyone who don't watch Episode 6 and last one for a while... I don't know how I'm gonna cope with it tbh... I'm following 23.5 and other web series but tbh... never on the level of Blank... I have to admit that GAP did it first but Blank did it better... which, no shade to GAP because FreenBecky, my beloved, chemistry was so good too!

And to clarify, GAP the series also had its own set of problems, most of them regarding money and locations, but what they did, opened the door for more GLs. Some, with good and bad executions, but that's up to each person and their preferences to decide!

BUT ENOUGH OF GAP (the perfect GL, to me!) Let's talk about BLANK!

As a start... I didn't like that they began from when Aneung knocked on Neung's door... it ate like 4 more minutes with them, plus they didn't keep the same tension.

On Episode 5, the tension was felt thanks to the zoom on their faces that lasted quite a good amount of seconds and Faye's minuscule lean.

This time it was cut and then bam! KISS! (NOT THAT I'M COMPLAINING!)

I'm not gonna go on full detail because I believe we all watched the episode, there are a few technical things I want to point out but I won't because nah! There was some foreshadowing to the doom that was to come... and no, I don't say this as a person who has read the book 🤭

I will go straight to that last part...

I had to go back to read that last part in the book because I wanted to keep this as accurate as I can.

So, throughout the episode, we see Aneung's family praising how good of a Role Model Neung is for Aneung. This is the first red flag. Then we see Neung still having doubts about their age gap which I find normal in this setting, because it can happen. This is the second red flag.

The final nail to the coffin, and the one I think everyone should consider whenever questioning WHY Neung broke this as cruel as she did, is that she thought she used Aneung as a way to distract her own pain.

In the book, and the reason why I re-read it, Neung sounds more detached, more out of the moment, and at some point even more aggressive about it. In the series, Neung, although also feeling out of the moment, the scene takes a more soft and romantic approach. They show us Neung's walls falling and accepting that she does indeed love Aneung.

Also, the "brake up" is harsher. Feels like a slap.

Now, we have to consider that in the book, right after their love making Aneung goes to school, everything seems fine, heavy, but good enough. Things happen, that I won't reveal because it could be spoilers, but one of those things is that Fah calls Neung about the funeral and everything. Fah is the one telling Neung that she trusts Neung, she's a role model, and she knows she will take care of Aneung.

Here, there is something I wanted to point out. To hear Fah say it, right after what happened it's what triggers Neung to break Aneung's heart. As logical as Neung is, that is the conclusion she gets after everything.

Aneung is young, thus can fall in love again with someone around her age. This is the conclusion Neung forms in her head. Plus, she sees something else that triggers a reaction. Something we will see in season 2 😆 so, no spoilers but maybe some of you can imagine what.

Neung is very logical, very cutthroat, and as stubborn as their grandmother. We have to remember that, as the eldest, she was trained to be the next heir. So, her life was very, very different. If you see any royal family, the image they project is one of perfection. So, it's no wonder that Neung learnt how to mask her feelings. If something hurts, hurt it back a thousand times worse. Or better yet, just ignore it.

Neung, just like Sam after she became the heir, prefers avoid her feelings because she knows caring equals pain. So, why bother?

There's a whole process Neung does before she goes to Aneung, in the book.

But I have to admit that the series spin was chef kiss! I'm sure that Neung, after waking up, was blaming herself for letting things escalate so quickly.

I will defend Neung with my whole heart because the traumas she carries makes her scared. And like a feral animal, the only way she knows how to defend herself is attacking. She pushes and pushes until she proves to herself that she is right. Everyone leaves.

I could continue rambling and going and just word spit things, but I have to sleep 🤣🤣🤣

Don't share spoilers if you read the book! Unless people want them, I will keep my posts spoiler free! Either way, if anyone wants to discuss the book, you can send me a message too!

Once again, I say this Blank the series set the bar waaaaaaay too high! I can't deny it!

Anyway, guys, do you agree? Disagree? Let's have a respectful debate!

[chattercap]

Hello! I'm Chattercap!

Hello! I'm Chattercap, a solo female game dev making animated romance visual novels with a twist! All of my games come with at least one plot twist, guaranteed 🫡

⬇️ You can find more info down below! ⬇️

Completed Games

The Perfect Woman is a psychological horror where you play as an AI girlfriend, trapped by your creator, who wants to carve you into his ideal spouse. If you want to survive, you'll have to become "the perfect woman."

The game is complete and takes 30-60 minutes to fully complete. There are three endings, and the game is fully voiced, including the narration!

Platforms: Windows, MacOS, Linux, Android

MindMindMind is a supernatural/psychological romance about a ghost (with a nice British accent) who has stalked you ever since you were a child. You don't know who...or what he is, but you call him Geist. When you befriend a new boy at college, Geist will do anything to keep you in his grasp.

The game is complete and takes 1.5-2 hours to play. There are two routes, and both love interests are fully voiced. The protagonist has no set appearance and customizable name/pronouns.

Platforms: Windows, MacOS

Karamu is a mystery/horror romance where you have an unexpected encounter with your ex-boyfriend. He really wants to discuss the break-up. He probably won't take no for an answer.

The game is complete and takes about an hour to play. It's fully voiced and animated in a comic book style.

Platforms: Windows, MacOS, Android

Karamu also has a Steam page, if you're interested!

Kanau is a horror/thriller romance that's a direct follow-up and prequel to Karamu. It's about the love interest's childhood and details the start of his obsessions with the main character. (Note: It details heavily with the topic of child abuse.)

The game is complete and takes about an hour to play. It's fully voiced and animated in a comic book style.

Platforms: Windows, MacOS

Games with a Demo

The Deepwater Witch is a post-apocalyptic/supernatural romance retelling The Little Mermaid in a future devastated by climate change, where mermaids have been hunted to near extinction.

The game is currently in development with a 25k word demo (~2-3 hours) released. The full game will be 52k words long and is set to release in April 2024.

Platforms: Windows, MacOS

The Deepwater Witch also has a Steam page, if you're interested!

Actala: The Hero's Shadow is a mystery/fantasy romance where you play as the Hero's childhood friend. His journey is finally over, and the kingdom is at peace. But after the "happily ever after," new dangers emerge: dangers that threaten the life of the kingdom's strongest man.

The full game will have 5 love interests and will be over 300k words. There is no set release date due to the scope of the game, but a revamped demo will probably release in Summer 2024.

Games in Current Production

Hanasu is the third installment of the "Karamu" trilogy, following Karamu and Kanau, and it will describe the events a few months after Karamu. The script is complete at 65k words.

TBA. ~4-5 hours, one love interest (F). You're the heir to the royal family, but you've been kidnapped and trapped in a tower by one of the kingdom's strongest knights, who used to be your best friend. Although the kingdom sends knights to rescue you, she cuts them all down without mercy. Why is she doing this? How can you escape? And the question is... do you want to? Key words: Romance, twisted fairy tale, hero-to-villain love interest, tragedy, yandere love interest, customizable protagonist. Currently scriptwriting.

TBA. ~4-5 hours, one love interest (M). Following a horrible family tragedy, you've retreated to a remote island with your loving husband. However, things aren't going well for your marriage. After a horrible fight, you wake up to find that your husband is... different. Kinder. More understanding. At first, you're happy, but he's also acting a bit strangely. You start to wonder... is this the man that you married? Key words: Romance, psychological horror, marriage drama, tragedy, yandere love interest, customizable protagonist. Currently scriptwriting.

Untitled Karamu spinoff. ~4-5 hours, one love interest (M), established protagonist (F). Every three days, a body appears in the harbor, surrounded by red flowers and covered in golden threads, its heart torn out of its chest. People say that it's the work of a demon. After her best friend is beaten half to death by her husband, Nelli decides to do anything to save her - even if it means making a deal with that very same demon. Key words: Romance, smut, historical, revenge, murder spouses, yandere love interest. Currently scriptwriting. (Caution: NSFW)

Additional Links

Itch.io

Twitter/X

Patreon

Website

All other links

[maboroshi-no]

Hamefura LN11 Extra Story Translation (Part 5) (Final)

I have started translating the extra story which comes with the special edition of volume 11 of the Hamefura light novel.

I posted some notes about it a while ago.

This part is the final Jeffrey's POV part.

Previous parts: Part 1    Part 2    Part 3 Part4

~The Story of the 4 Stuart Brothers~ (Part 5)

Jeffrey’s POV

While walking alone in a hidden passageway inside the castle that only royals and a handful of people knew about, I, Jeffrey Stuart, was in very high spirits.

Because no eyes were on me, I was humming a song while lightly skipping.

Before long, I finally reached my destination and then knocked on the wall as a signal. After a little while,

Ian: Come in.

I got this short reply.

After getting it, I softly slid the wall in front of me and went inside the room.

The room was about as large as mine with mostly the same furniture and furnishings except they were arranged grandly. It very much reflected the personality of its occupant.

My little brother was sitting up straight at his neatly ordered desk. I called out to him.

Jeffrey: Hi, Ian. How are you doing?

Ian: There's not much change on my side.

…replied my first little brother, Ian.

It sounded a bit curt, but this was how Ian normally was.

Unlike me who was said to be exceedingly amiable, Ian had a slightly limited register of facial expressions.

However, it didn't mean he had a limited register of emotions. When he was happy, the corners of his mouth would go softly upward, and when he was sad, his eyebrows would go a little downward. It was oh, so cute.

Jeffrey: I see, then I am glad. Anyway, can we talk a little?

After I had said this, Ian sighed and closed the open book on his desk,

Ian: You'll still talk even if I say no, right? I'll listen, so make it short.

…he said.

Jeffrey: Okay, I'll try.

I started telling Ian about the happy exchanges I had with my little twin brothers over the last few days. Until a little while ago, I had been most worried about them since they mostly didn't talk to each other and Alan even seemed to hate Geordo. 

And these boys had just recently started to have conversations with each other normally.

On top of this, the two of them had told me "Thank you for worrying about me!" 

If I had to describe my feelings at that time, I was so happy that I thought I might have ascended to the heavens.

While I was excitedly telling the story, Ian was quietly listening, as always.

When Ian was born, when my little twin brothers were born, I, Jeffrey Stuart, had been so taken by their adorableness that I had vowed to protect them as their big brother.

But after that, my little brother Alan fell severely ill, which resulted in my mother constantly attending to him. In addition to this, the royal palace was also in chaos because the former king had died without designating an heir.

Following these events, we brothers were left in the care of our servants and got all scattered.

Because I was still young at the time, I couldn't do anything about this situation. I couldn't do anything but worry about my little brothers.

Our parents weren't the kind of people who had no love for their children, but this period seemed to have been really difficult.

They did their very best just not to let any dangerous-minded people near us.

Eventually, our father was enthroned, and we went from being royals to becoming princes and heirs to the throne.

Now sitting on the throne, our father purged the corrupted royal palace, and our mother helped him as queen. The two of them seemed to be considerably busy.

And while we were out of reach of our parents like this, the people who curried favor to us, scattered siblings, had created factions before I had known it.

Then I was set up for some kind of succession struggle that I had absolutely no desire to participate in.

As a result, even though we were born of the same father and mother, we all grew up separately and got thrust into a fight for the throne.

When I was little, I couldn't oppose the faction as they took extensive care of me, but as I grew older, I gradually became able to handle them.

I also became able to lose the escort following me everywhere.

Then I was finally able to go where my scattered little brothers were.

Geordo had grown up into an unchildish child with icy eyes.

When he was just tiny, he was extending his hand towards me with sparkling eyes, and laughing with a wide smile. He was a child brimming with so much curiosity… but there was no trace of this left.

Because our mother had constantly been attending to the terribly sickly Alan, Geordo had grown up with mostly no motherly contact, or rather no family contact. Because of this, Geordo was mocked as "The Forgotten Prince" and he had lost interest in other people.

He looked at me like he would a stranger, and even though we had hardly met each other, it made me sad.

Despite being eight years old, his fake smile was flawless. He already was like a noble walking through high society.

He seemed uninterested in childish games, and no matter what I would ask him, he would give me extremely adultlike and mundane answers. This pained me terribly.

Even when, one way or another, I showed concern for what he wanted to do among other things, his responses didn't change.

As for Alan, his eyes were the polar opposite of Geordo's as they were retaining violent emotions. He always looked irritated and in pain.

I knew right away that Geordo was the cause of this.

The imbeciles who wanted to kick Alan out of the fight for the throne were spreading contemptuous rumors comparing him to Geordo, and Alan had been taking them seriously. 

"These rumors are just slander spread by the people who want to kick you out of the competition."

No matter how many times I told Alan these words, he obstinately refused to listen and kept intensely overreacting to Geordo.

Even though both lived in the same castle, they could barely look at each other.

I wanted to do something about it and thus tried to get my point across, but in the end, I couldn't do anything and rather got him to hate me as well.

And then, Ian. To be honest, I felt the most nervous while going to Ian's place.

Because Ian and I had been set up as rivals by our completely formed factions, I had been worried about him possibly seeing me as an enemy.

But the day I first took the hidden passageway to visit Ian's place, he readily let me in his room after I had stated my name.

Ian: It has been a while. Have you been well?

…he said.

I was so happy that I shouted "Ian~!" and hugged him.

But he pulled me off him right away, looking annoyed.  

Then, since Ian was way more friendly than I thought, I asked him if he found me unpleasant now that I was said to be his rival.

Ian: It's just what people around are saying. I didn't know how you were feeling about me, but looking at you, it seems like you don't see me as an enemy. 

It seemed like Ian had also been wondering whether I saw him as an enemy. With this situation, it couldn't be helped.

Jeffrey: Far from it, I've always been worried about you!

When I honestly said this, Ian made a relieved face, and…

Ian: Is that so? So you haven't changed since that time, long ago, when you enthusiastically said you would protect us.

…He said.

Jeffrey: Ian, you remember!

Ian was still two or so at that time, so I was surprised. Ian quickly told me this.

Ian: I don't remember the time just after my birth but I clearly remember things starting from a little while after.  Along with how you were profusely doting on me.

Jeffrey: …Ian, you're amazing.

I was deeply moved by my younger brother's wonderful ability.

However, Ian quietly shook his head.

Ian: It's just that I have a fairly good memory. I'm poor at guessing people's feelings. So until you came to visit me like this, I had no idea how you were feeling about me.

After saying this, Ian told me little by little about what had happened while we were separated.

About how he had been trying at first to somehow have contact with me and our brothers. 

About how he had no success with it, how he thought he might be able to do something if he gained more power, and then made great efforts to that end.

These didn't seem like pleasant days in any way but… Ian seemed to have been blessed with both a wonderful memory and wonderful people around him, and despite having slightly limited facial expressions, he seemed to have grown up into a straightforward person. 

Even regarding the succession to the throne, he wasn't like me, reluctantly studying because the people around him forced him, but he was making efforts of his own because he wanted to be of help to the people of the country.

My little brother was so wonderful!

In that case, maybe I should just throw away my succession to the throne, but… I already knew that filthy and nasty people would then approach him for political power.

On the surface, I would pretend to compete with Ian and draw the filthy people towards me, thus pulling them away from Ian and my other little brothers.

It originally was something I had thought about before, but after talking with Ian, I decided that I would absolutely do this.

Of course, I would make sure that the serious and straightforward Ian wouldn't find out. After all, if he did, he would probably get worried and oppose it.

We decided not to act too intimate on the outside because of our formed factions and to meet like this behind the scenes from time to time.

Then, later on, all while checking up on Geordo and Alan, I kept sneaking into the castle's hidden passageways to secretly interact with Ian.

Most of the time, I would complain because I was so frustrated over not being able to do anything for Geordo's empty eyes and Alan's stubbornness, and Ian would quietly listen to me. But today was different.

The situation had started to completely change from around the time I heard that Geordo had gotten engaged, a little while ago.

Geordo's eyes had regained their twinkle, and soon after, Alan had also calmed down.

They seemed to have changed through the interactions they had with their fiancées.

I get it, little bros. Girls before your big brother, right? I felt a bit lonely, but it meant that you had become more adult.

One day, when I would meet them, I would express my gratitude to their fiancées.

Then, with them back to their original selves, the twins had come to interact even at the castle.

I was so, so, happy to see them this way that I called out to them without thinking. And then each of them…

Geordo / Alan: Thank you for worrying about me.

They told me this!

Aaah, there was nothing happier than this.

I could talk about this for hours! When I passionately told Ian this…

Ian: Sure. I've heard that part three times already, so that will be enough. I'm fairly busy myself so let's call it a day.

After saying this, Ian cut the conversation short and pressed me to go back through the hidden passageways.

Jeffrey: Uuuh… But I still want to talk…

After I had mumbled this, Ian…

Ian: For the rest, have Lady Susanna listen to it.

…he said, mentioning the name of my fiancée.

Susanna knew about my love for my little brothers, so I could indeed talk to her, but…

Jeffrey: Rather than listening to me, Susanna will completely ignore what I say and read a magic book the whole time. 

Susanna Randall, to whom I got engaged a few years ago, was beautiful and extraordinarily brilliant, but… She was a magic nerd who basically didn't care about anything but her magic research. She was quite a peculiar girl.

The first time I had met her, she had declared to me, "I have no interest but magic research." To this day, it was still a nice memory.

Ian: …You seem intimate.

Following my story, Ian said this.

Huh? What part of my story made him think that we were intimate? It was the big question.

Then I felt like he was a bit jealous, so…

Jeffrey: Ian, how are things between you and Lady Selena?

About six months before Geordo and Alan's engagements, Ian got engaged to a girl from a ducal family called Selena Berg.

I hadn't met her but I had heard that the Bergs was a fair and upstanding family.

As their daughter, she must be a proper girl, but… Come to think of it, I hadn't heard anything from Ian about his fiancée.

Ian: What do you mean, "How are things between us"?

Ian's face had become stiff. I said,

Jeffrey: Well, I haven't really heard anything from you about your fiancée, so I was wondering if you were getting along.

After I had replied with this,

Ian: …We are interacting to some extent. Just, I don't know what to talk about with her.

Ian slightly lowered his eyebrows.

This was his troubled face.

Jeffrey: Ian, you're not particularly bad at making conversations, right? You can have conversations with anyone without trouble.

Ian usually was the one listening to my talking, but it didn't mean that he, himself, was bad at talking. 

Because he was a prince shouldering the expectations of everyone, he could skillfully talk and adapt the topic to each of his interlocutors.

Ian: …It might be the case, but in front of Selena, I can't seem to know what to talk about.

After he had said this, Ian's cheeks had become slightly red.

Oooh, this is…! I can't believe it, the straight-laced Ian is in love! 

And for the one he loves to be his fiancée, this is truly a joyful thing.

Jeffrey: Ooh! So this is how it is! Ian, you're finally… I'm so happy for you.

It seemed like my little brothers were steadily growing up, which made me happy. Though, I also felt a bit lonely…

When I ruffled Ian's head, he got away, looking displeased. 

Jeffrey: And so, Lady Selena, what kind of girl is she?

I was curious about the one Ian loved, so I tried to lean close and ask about her, but Ian looked even more bashful, and…

Ian: Isn't that enough? Get out.

After saying this with an even redder face, he pushed me to the hidden passageway.

Still, when he closed the door, he muttered in a very low voice,

Ian: …Selena is incredibly cute.

…he said but I couldn't catch it.

Aaah, Ian was just too cute!

I wanted someone to hear about it. No, I wanted to talk about it. I wouldn't be able to endure not talking about it. 

After that, I finally did as Ian had suggested and went to Susanna's. I passionately talked about how my little brothers were wonderful and cute.

As I had expected, Susanna mostly didn't listen and just read a book on magic, but even so, since I could somewhat talk, I felt lighter.

In this way, Susanna, who paid no attention to my talking that I couldn't have with others, was important to me.

To be able to get good fiancées like them for political engagements, I thought we brothers really were so lucky.

[theinquisitxor]

2024 Anticipated Book Releases

I thought I had a lot of anticipated book releases for 2023, but 2024 is also proving to be a year of many books I'm excited about too. These are all the books I'm looking forward to in the first half of the year!

January:

-A Fragile Enchantment by Alison Saft: (Jan 2nd) rom-com fantasy about a dressmaker hired to make the royal wedding dress, but she starts to fall for the prince instead.

-Mislaid in Parts Half-Known Wayward Children 9) by Seanan (Jan 9th) The second to last book in this novella series, this one featuring dinosaurs!

-The Atlas Complex (The Atlas Series #3) by Olive Blake (Jan 9th) the final books to this magical dark academia trilogy, and I've been excited for this one since the ending of book 2.

-Emily Wilde's Map of the Otherlands (Emily Wilde 2) by Heather Fawcett (Jan 16th) The second book in this new historical fantasy series, in which Emily and Wendall go on a new adventure in the Austrian Alps. This is one of my most anticipated books of the year.

-City of Stardust by Georgia Summers (Jan 30th) this is a new fantasy debut that sounds similar to The Starless Sea and features a woman descending down into a subterranean world to try and break a generational curse.

-House of Flame and Shadow (Crescent City 3) by SJM (Jan 30th) I've been enjoying SJM's crescent city books the most of all her series, and I'm looking forward to this one after how book 2 ended.

February

-The Warm Hands of Ghosts by Katherine Arden (Feb 13th) This is possibly my most anticipated book of the year, and Katherine Arden's newest adult release. A historical fiction (and a little magical realism?) set in Europe during WW1 following a combat nurse trying to find her (presumably) dead brother.

-The Book of Doors by Gareth Brown (Feb 13th) A debut magical realism fantasy set in NYC with books, bookstores, and a mystery book. I've heard many good early reviews of this one.

-What Feasts at Night by T. Kingfisher (Feb 13th) This is a follow up novella to What Moves the Dead following Alex Easton in a new horror adventure. This one has such a cool cover.

-The Briar Book of the Dead by AG Slatter (Feb 13th) A coven of witches keeps a town and the border between realms safe.

March

-A Dark and Drowning Tide by Allison Saft (March 5th) I'm very excited to get two new Allison Saft books in 1 year. This is a dark academia fantasy about two rival scholars trying to figure out who killed their mentor. Sapphic romance too I believe.

-The Prisoner's Throne by Holly Black (March 5th) This is the conclusion to The Stolen Heir, and I'm looking forward to the seeing more of the characters from the original series make an appearance in this one.

-The Woods All Black by Lee Mandelo (March 19th) This is a spooky queer horror novella set in 1920s Appalachia. Small town religiosity and something sinister creeping in the woods? This just sounds like a novella I'd enjoy.

-Song of the Huntress by Lucy Holland (March 21st) A new book from Lucy Holland, also set in magical ancient Briton. A warrior queen falls into trouble and teams up with the Wild Hunt to save her kingdom. Sapphic/queer romance.

-The Hedewitch of Fox Hall by Anna Bright (March 24th) a fantasy romance book set in medieval Wales as a hedge witch and prince team up to help prevent magic from fading away. The cover of this book is so beautiful!

April

-The Familiar by Leigh Barduo (April 9th) I don't really know much about this one, other than it is a new adult novel by Leigh Bardugo set in 1400s Spain. Also one of my most anticipated releases of the year.

-Song of Six Realms by Judy Lin (April 23rd) A young adult fantasy about a musician who goes to the Duke of Dreams's realm and must help stop a disaster.

June

-Running Close to the Wind by Alexandra Rowland (June 13th) A new high seas fantasy that was directly inspired by OFMD and Terry Pratchett. This is very queer and seems like it's going to be a lot of fun.

-Foul Days by Genovena Dimova (June 25th) A slavic fantasy story about a witch who has to team up with a detective as she is being hunted by her ex, the Tsar of Monsters. I've heard some very good early reviews of this book too.

-Children of Anguish and Anarchy (Children of Blood and Bone 3) by Tomi Adeyemi (June 25th) I honestly don't know if I'm going to read this anytime soon, but I've been waiting for this final book for almost 4 years now, so I just want to see how the series ends.

I think that's it for now! Release dates tend to change, and I'm sure I will be adding or editing this list as the new year starts. I'd love to hear of any new releases you are excited for!

Second half of 2024/To be determined:

A Sorceress Comes to Call by T Kingfisher (August)

The Mercy of Gods by James SA Corey (August)

The Whisper Between Worlds by Amanda Foody (TBD)

Lady Macbeth by Ava Reid (TBD)

[thelastbicorn]

The Metaphor: Re Fantazio hype train isn’t quite chugging at full speed yet, so I thought I might share some of my theories regarding the plot: Specifically: who is the *real* villain? The Big Bad? The final boss? I can identify a few candidates, who I’ll list in order of increasing likelihood (in my opinion).

1. Louis - This is the obvious one. Too obvious, methinks. I honestly think this guy is going to turn out to be an anti-villain/hero in the end. We’re probably still going to have a big climactic battle with him (bonus points if he has an archetype), but it won’t be the final battle. I predict that he will be defeated, die staring into the Protagonist’s eyes as they realize they weren’t so different after all, and then...the Prince’s curse doesn’t wear off. Uh-oh. We did exactly what another bad guy wanted us to do. Fuck. Who is that nefarious villain, you ask? Read on...

2. More - I’m not sure I trust this guy. We know he’s a prisoner in Akademia. For what? Writing a book that the powers that be didn’t like? Maybe. Or perhaps there’s another reason that he’s not telling us? I dunno. I might just be having P5 flashbacks. (They wouldn’t pull that twist AGAIN, would they?)

3. Forden - This is the “other bad guy” I was talking about. The game seems to be setting him and Louis up as foils and rivals for the throne, and while we’re being led to believe that the latter is the more dangerous/evil one, I don’t buy it. I seriously wonder if Louis is really the one responsible for the Prince’s curse. We see the masked figure cast the spell, but how do we know it’s Louis? If Forden wants the throne himself, he would have just as much reason to want the King’s only heir dead. As the leader of the Sanctist Church, he’s already seen as a de facto leader, and he starts the election in the #1 position anyway. He probably wouldn’t have killed the King with his own hands like Louis did, but as a Rhoag (with their long lifespans), he could afford to play the waiting game once the Prince was out of the picture. I’m rambling now, but you get the picture. This guy is potentially just as villainous as Louis, if not more so.

4. Hythlodaeus V aka the late King aka the Big Giant Floating Head of Doom - Yes, I’m serious. I mean, just look at him/it! That thing is just screaming Final Boss. Hell, it could be a final dungeon in itself, like Sin in Final Fantasy X. It’s present in the battle UI from the moment it appears. Why? Because it’s watching you. It’s watching *everyone*. In-game they mention a “royal magic” that only the King can wield, which isn’t described in detail but is said to be a deterrent to invasion. That sounds pretty damn powerful, whether it’s defensive or offensive in nature. It sort of seems like it has a will of its own, activating after the King’s death right in the middle of his funeral. The election “seems” a tad fishy to me too. Sure, it seems progressive for a high fantasy setting, but consider this: What if the purpose of the election isn’t necessarily to find a new ruler for the kingdom, but for finding the royal magic a new *host*?

Honorable Mention: “Scheming Man” - As shown in the latest preview, this character appears in the beginning, breaking the fourth wall to ask the player for their name. So...what exactly are they scheming, anyway? If they can perceive our world, then they could easily know some things that no one else in-universe does. That already makes them more dangerous, potentially. There’s also the possibility that it’s someone we know already. It could be More; I need to listen to their voices again. If it is More, then he belongs at the top of the potential villain list. If not, then he stays where he already is. This is why this entry is off to the side. I don’t know if he’s somebody we’ve seen or not.

In any case, I’ve talked enough. I can’t wait until next month, when all of my predictions get proven completely and utterly wrong. I’m honestly hoping for some kind of mind-bending twist at the end of the second act, but only time will tell.

[a-cloud-for-dreams]

Ok so I've mentioned this a bunch of times on my blog by now but I've been trying to speedrun all of the Choices books and I'm so glad I am because there are some underrated gems out there! I'm almost done with TC&TF Book 1 and that book had a ton of love interests so I was inspired to make a top ten list to organize my thoughts. This post will be under development as I play more books or change my mind lol

Top Ten Books/Series

Bloodbound Series - This book is literally one of the best series PB has ever put out. To be fair, it should be under Blades and TC&TF, I would argue that these three books deserve top place. But it would be harder to combine my Bloodbound explanation with the other two fantasy books so here you go. Contrary to most, I did like the first book, wasn't my favorite, but it was a good intro to the series. I like that the world slowly grew as we learned more about vampires and it felt complete and like it had something to say. Thank @gaiuskamilah for my further obsession with the series lol

Blades of Light and Shadow Book 1/The Crown and the Flame Book 1 - I couldn't choose but they're both AMAZING BOOKS ugh I can't say enough good things about them. The choices actually matter and the plot was so good. Every chapter had a purpose and the conclusion felt so satisfying. The scoring system and skills for both books was super cool, we need more books like them <33

Crimes of Passion Series - Definitely a Top Tier MC!!! I liked the mystery (Book 2's reveal wasn't great but the chaotic Thorne siblings make up for it) and Trystan is the best single LI we've had in a while, their dynamic with Rose was *chef's kiss*

Perfect Match Series - I LOVED this series and our friend group/love interests so much. They all felt like unique people with their own experiences and the plot was so amazingly intense. The finale of Book 1 was UNMATCHED we won't ever live to experience something that iconic ever again smh. It took a while for the plot to kick in, which is why it's lower on the list

The Elementalists - I'm a sucker for elemental magic systems/magic schools, and I love our friend group/family so much. Atlas is the coolest twin, and the whole sun/moon dynamic was fun! Being a powerful Sun-Att boosted my ego astronomically. I wish we got another book to see our mom more though

It Lives in the Woods - I like that the premise was relatively simple, along with the game mechanics. Your actions had real consequences and it was more immersive. The flash-forward in the last chapter was super sweet too and I like that the anthology was interconnected. This series also gave us an amazing friend group and set of LIs so I'm thankful <3

Open Heart Book 1 - Simply iconic, grounded in reality, and actually put together imao. It was one of the peaks of our fandom. This book is super nostalgic for me because I'm interested in the medical field, and it's the whole reason I'm posting Choices content here in the first place

Ride or Die - I adore this book. It felt complete on its own EVEN IF IT DESERVED A SEQUEL *side-eyeing PB* and it's a great coming-of-age story with a realistic teen MC. The ending was bittersweet and you felt changed by the experience playing the book

Nightbound - I liked the vibes and the idea more than the execution if that makes sense? I love the idea of Lamrian and how the MC is half-fae and super powerful, but the book didn't have enough time to showcase the supernatural world compared to Bloodbound, which focused on vampire lore. I can probably make a whole separate post on this but yea

The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir - I think, again, I like the vibes of the series more than the flawed execution, but because it went on for so long I kinda of got attached to the characters (mind you I didn't play or finish any of the books) but it's super fluffy and sweet and iconic for Choices history so here <3 a lot of the books like ROE, TRM, and TC&TF are interconnected so it's part of the foundation for the PB Choices Multiverse :) to be fair, it looks like they did a somewhat decent job writing the conflicts for each book?

I have a feeling when I finish Endless Summer, this list is gonna change...

EDIT: I totally forgot about The Heist: Monaco, but it was amazing! TRR/TH should be bumped down to honorable mention, I'll change it at some point-

Honorable Mentions

A Courtesan of Rome - The book took awhile for me to get through but my MC is legendary and carried the book so it's up here lol. I also liked that it felt like a historically accurate book?

Platinum - Cool commentary on the darker sides of fame and the music >>>

Veil of Secrets - The plot was interesting, one of my fave mystery books they've written! Also the characters >>>

Mother of the Year - Wholesome and felt finished, def one of the best single books. Also the antagonists were properly despicable so...good writing

Wake the Dead - It wasn't perfect, but I love zombie apocalypse stories and the idea of rebuilding our camp was so cool so idc how flawed it is <3

Foreign Affairs - The ending was rushed and the premise should have been rewritten but more on that on a later date. It was still fun for me to play

Desire and Decorum - I finished book 1 and I really liked it! it's basically the Choices version of Bridgerton, not historically accurate but super entertaining. The vibes and the LIs were amazing

Kindred - Pacing issues but still entertaining, I love the witch lore that they had in the book and the focus on building both platonic and romantic relationships so I'm not complaining

Top Ten Love Interests In No Particular Order

Trystan Thorne

Bryce Lahela

Kamilah Sayeed

Damien Nazario

Kaine Bell

Raleigh Carrera

Aerin Valleros

Jax Matsuo

Colt Kaneko

F!Hayden Young

Honorable Mentions (Again, No Particular Order)

Drake Walker (listen LISTEN I don't like that he sidelined other LIs, and I absolutely HATE how his character was a total contradiction, it was executed poorly, but I like the idea of his route if that makes sense. Some of the banter was cute and I love the whole grumpy x sunshine trope. I'm pretty sure he took a bullet for me lol)

Raydan Lykel (Solely because I haven't finished the series yet)

Mal Volari (He would have been in Top Ten but I had to bump him down because his Book 2 Route isn't working)

Tyril Starfury

Nia Ellarious

Prince Hamid

Tatum Mendoza

All of the Nightbound Love Interests are amazing I just couldn't fit them on the list

Gaius Augustine

Alana Kusuma

Rainier (Kindred)

Thomas Mendez

Flynn O'Malley

Olivia Nevrakis (she had so much potential omg)

Robin Flores and Sofia Russo (in my world, they're LIs just shush)

[queenmarytudor]

Mary I's Fight For The Throne

c.18th June 1553 - Mary worries

A month has passed after her letter to Edward rejoicing his recovery, and Mary is worrying.

She has had no reply from Edward, or the Duke of Northumberland who had previously kept her informed. Now, "she receives no information" 1 and begs the Imperial ambassador "to hear more detailed accounts." 2, sending constantly "for news of his Majesty's health." 3

She "is in sore perplexity and greatly desires to write" 4 to her cousin Charles V, but fearing to do so asks Imperial ambassador Jehan Scheyfve to write in her name. She wants him to inform the Emperor "of the King, her brother's, health and other matters connected with that question" 5

Clearly at this point in time, Mary is becoming suspicious of the exact state of Edward's health, and the plan for her accession in the event of his death.

Though the Imperial ambassador assures her of Edward's "sincere and true affection and goodwill [...] who would never forsake her" 6 Mary is not convinced. It is possible she now decides to send her comptroller, Robert Rochester, directly to the ambassador to communicate her fears. Undated meetings between the two are confirmed by the ambassadors on the 20th July, where they mention “Mr. Rouster [Robert Rochester] who has come several times in secret to the ambassador during these troubles." 7

Meanwhile...

On the 12th June, royal lawyer Sir Edward Montagu is summoned to Greenwich where "there the King by his own mouth said, that how in his sickness he had considered the state of their lives, realm, and succession, which, if he should decease without heir of his body, should go to the lady Mary, who was unmarried, and might marry a stranger-born, whereby the laws of this realm might be altered and changed, and his Highness' proceedings in religion might be altered. Wherefore his pleasure was that the state of the crown should go in such form, and to such persons, as his Highness had appointed in a bill of articles now signed with the King's hand, which were read, and commanded them to make a book thereof accordingly with speed." 8

On the 13th June when Montagu and other lawyers refuse the request stating it would be treason because "the Devise was directly against the Act of Succession, which, being an act of parliament, could not thus be taken away" 9 the Duke of Northumberland "being in a great rage and fury, trembling for anger; amongst his rageous talk, called sir Edward Mountagu traitor, and further said that he would fight in his shirt with any man in that quarrel." 10

On the 14th June, the Duchess of Suffolk visits King Edward. 11

After interrogation via torture by the Earl of Sussex and Sir Richard Southwell failed, the men who stole Mary's hawks are sent to the Tower. 12

After a second meeting on the 15th June, King Edward commands the lawyers including Sir Edward Montagu "very sharply upon their allegiance to make [the device]; and there were divers of the lords that stood behind sir Edward that said "and if they refused to do that they were traitors." 13 Sir Edward "being then in great fear as ever he was in his life before, seeing the King so earnest and sharp, and the duke so angry the day before" 14 finally agrees.

Sources:

1. Spanish State Papers, 12th June 1553

2. Spanish State Papers, 15th June 1553

3. Spanish State Papers, 15th June 1553

4. Spanish State Papers, 19th June 1553

5. Spanish State Papers, 19th June 1553

6. Spanish State Papers, 30th May 1553

7. Spanish State Papers, 20th July 1553

8. Literary remains of King Edward the Sixth

9. Literary remains of King Edward the Sixth

10. Literary remains of King Edward the Sixth

11. Spanish State Papers, 15th June 1553

12. Acts of the Privy Council Vol. 4, 14th June 1553

13. Literary remains of King Edward the Sixth

14. Literary remains of King Edward the Sixth

[lorirwritesfanfic]

Top 10 Choices MCs

1. The Heist Monaco MC: the mastermind behind stealing the big heist while defeating an obnoxious and self-absorbed villain and leaving Monaco unscathed (at least in my playthrough lol) deserves first place;

2. Crimes of Passion MC: I only played book one, but I love MC's personality, backstory, how good they areat their job and how they develop a good partnership (and romance) with Trystan;

3. The Crown and The Flame - Kenna Rys: she belongs to PB, but the woman is a one hell of a warrior and queen;

4. Ride or Die MC: she went from naive nerdy teenager to strong and smart young woman who defeats a corrupt cop and I was living for it!

5. It Lives Beneath MC: This MC faced so many traumatic situations and barely made out alive while taking down a bizarre secret society being so young. The least they deserve is to be on top 5;

6. The Royal Romance/Heir/Finale MC: at times, she seems to be just a not so smart character who often relies on her charm, but she is pretty tough for facing a sexual assault attempt followed by public humiliation, several near death experiences and temporarily losing custody of her child without a single visit to a therapist. Unreal? Yes. But kudos to her;

7. Bloodbound MC: at first glance, MC seems a bit fragile if compared to everyone else, but eventually she becomes the one who would save everyone. Including herself;

8. Mother of The Year MC: she lived my teenhood nightmare, had two jobs and still found time be super mom and three hot potential dates while fighting custody battle against that white trash of ex husband.

9. Save The Date MC: I love her sense of your humour and that she had a backbone to quit a job she hated to pursue a new career;

10. Desire & Decorum MC: I have mixed feelings about her because the writing team itself didn't help much. She does her best to be accomplished lady, fights tooth and nail to prove she's the rightful heir and to show who Duke Richards really is, but at the same time she runs away to the village she grew up and stays there with her friends and LI as if she doesn't have huge issues to solve 🤷 she's on the top 10 because she endured an engagement to Duke Richards and helped put him in jail, just for that she deserves this spot.

Tagging @choicesfandomappreciation