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110 A.C


"I present to you, Ser Jessica Byrne. Daughter of Ser Urgon and the Lady Rebecca of Westyra."

Rhaenyra didn't usually attend these things with her father, but she simply sat over to the side with Alicent, studying the knight's right side as she kneeled before her father.

"Rise." She does as told, her hand grabbing the hilt of her sword. "You claim that you speak on the behalf of your father. How come he couldn't be here himself as he promised?" Jessica gulps, biting her lip.

"My father has fallen ill. He wished to air his thoughts but has caught an infection in his throat, so he has sent me." Viserys hums, stroking his chin.

"What thoughts does a Lord of a small province such as Westyra have to express to the king?" Jessica runs a hand through her red locks, and Rhaenyra takes in a breath when she notices her eyes flicker from her to the king.

"He wants me to request a place in the king's court. In whatever way possible. His first suggestion was to sell me as a handmaiden. A slave." She lets the words hang in the air before swallowing.

"That was when I was much younger. Now I am a knight, and he wants me to pledge fealty to you, as my family did once some years ago." The princess watches silently as she examines the scar on her mouth, which from an angle would look hideous if it weren't for her golden eyes overshadowing it.

"Is that what you want?"

"My loyalties lie with Westyra, but it is my father. I could not say no, Your Grace," She pauses, clenching her jaw as she looks up from the floor. "If you suspect anything of my intentions, know that Westyra is entirely inferior to House Targaryen. My father only wants another achievement for his children."

"Ah, yes. I've been told of you. Your brother, Dorian, is a Dornish knight?" Jessica nods. "Yes, we are from Essos, but he fights in the Marshes. And my sister, a maiden to the Queen." Viserys nods and sits back on the throne.

"I have no current spots on the Kingsguard. I have heard stories of you, and I wish for nothing but to have a warrior such as you in my corner. But unfortunately, as I have just said, my guard is full. Although, I do have a request." The blonde perks up as she becomes more attentive.

"I want to see you fight." Some of the guards in the room stare at him strangely and frown at the request. "Your Grace?" Jessica inquires with a confused frown.

"I need new trainers. I assume the story of the ax is true as I stare at your scar," Jessica's lip twitches. "And I wish to see if you have the skill I've heard from my advisors."

Otto Hightower looks between Jessica and the king. "My King, if I may-" Viserys lifts a hand, silencing the man. "Tell me what skills you are proficient in, Ser Jessica."

Jessica sighs, adjusting the belt on her waist. "Sword fighting. I use a bow and arrow well. As you know, I can wield an ax and mallets."

"May I ask of whom you were trained?"

"My uncle, Aenar." Viserys sighs with a smile. He sits back once more, linking his fingers and crossing his legs. "If all could clear the room, I'd like to have a private discussion with Ser Jessica." Rhaenyra eyes her father curiously, not seeing him this excited unless he was explaining his Old Valaryia model.

The room began to clear, and despite their wishes, so did their men. "Rhaenyra." His daughter, who was on her way out the door, halted. She turned around with curiosity.

"Stay."

The doors to the throne room shut, and the princess walked back to her father and the knight. "Jessica." The woman nods.

"I knew your uncle. He was a young knight on my grandfather's Kingsguard. Served some time on mine." He smiles, looking at his daughter. "Jessica, this is my daughter, Princess Rhaenyra." Jessica fully turned to the girl, who now stood before the Iron Throne, and she bowed before her.

"Princess."

"Rhaenyra is to become a valiant force for this kingdom, whether she believes that or not. I need her to know the power that our family possesses. Our history, she refuses to embrace it."

"Well, I know plenty, Your Grace."

"You intrigue me. Why? I do not know. But I wish for you to joust my brother. In return, you may stay as a trainer, possibly a tutor for my daughter." Viserys watches Jessica's reaction as she spares Rhaenyra a glance.

"The Prince, Daemon?" He nods, and Rhaenyra looks at him. "You barely know what she is capable of, father."

"No, but I like this one. Despite only knowing her for a short time, I feel as though she will not let me down. Besides, Daemon loves a challenge."

"Of course, I shall fight the Prince." She kneels. "As long as I shall be allowed to fight under you both." She stands back up and straightens herself out. "I wish to hear your stories. They fascinate me, as I've heard you simply avoid death by accident." The smaller girl smirks as she side-eyes her father. 

"Start with the one of the axes."

"Oh, okay. Well...We were training and I had forged a mechanism that was a rope wrapped around my forearm and connected to the ax handle so that I could fling it around. We were at a tavern when there was an ambush, and I happened to have it on, but the soldier blocked it, and it lodged into my face. Shockingly, they were able to stop the bleeding and sew my face back to what is now." Rhaenyra was rarely fascinated by any of the knight's stories, but perhaps Jessica's thick silky voice and accent made it more interesting. 

"It may sound bad, but I swear I got revenge. Sliced his head clean off when I woke up." Viserys chuckles. "Tell another." 

"Of course."

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