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02/ our little secret
A YEAR AGO.
For someone who was born with dragon blood coursing through her veins, Maelora Targaryen despised violence. She often forgot that she got fangs for teeth and talons for nails. She pretended to be softer than her family and her monstrous needs grew tooth inside her heart, prickling her skin like thorns the more she gulped them back.
Maelora tried to pop her dark bubbles like balloons inside her mind whilst she sat on the benches and watched another man get knocked out cold in the stadium with a pout settled on her lips. It was her and her twin brother Aemond's sixteenth name day. A tourney was held, which would be followed by a feast.
"He puts too much weight on his left side." Aemond muttered, gingerly watching everything. He was dressed in black and refused to wear any gold jewelry, except for the golden circular adornment around his black eye patch that he agreed to wear just for that day. He seemed more like a blood-hungry warrior than a noble prince.
Maelora, on the other hand, was wearing a dress that tightened around her waist; her skirt was black with golden floral patterns on it and the dress' upper part was completely golden with engravings inspired by the history of her ancestors. The tailors spent months making the dress. Sixteen meant she was a woman grown now and her grandfather Otto thought that every lord in the realm had to know that. It was also one of the reasons why Maelora's dress had a low-cut cleavage that her mother disapproved of. Her silver hair cascaded her forehead with a headpiece with moon symbols, but she felt like it was crushing her skull.
Aemond grunted. "He is bound to fall."
In less than a minute, the knight Aemond was talking about crashed to the ground and lost the joust. Aemond's lips lifted up. "None of them are worthy to fight. Watching children fight would be more unpredictable."
Maelora stayed quiet. She had been quiet for an hour now but she didn't guess her twin took notice of that. He was too engaged in the tourney; he couldn't even bite his tongue to stop himself from making comments.
