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CRISIS OF MY FAITH. / CHAPTER FOUR.
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Meliana found herself genuinely excited when the day of the declaration of the heir arrived. The entire castle buzzed the whole day, frantic whispers amongst the staff over the news of princess Rhaenyra being named Heir━for the first time, a woman instead of a man, a daughter instead of a son. Meliana never thought she would live to see the day when men would put a woman in the Iron Throne; it almost sounded like a joke. Some agreed with the king's decision, some didn't, but at the end of the day, none of their opinions mattered.
Meliana thought it was fascinating. How history could be changed in such a fast, simple way.
(She should have known better. They all should have.)
Perhaps it was the first time she was looking at the princess with such admiration. She entered the room quickly, bringing forth the dress that the Targaryen would wear. It was a red one, complimenting the colours of her house and her pale skin tone. She quickly noticed they were alone in the bedroom, which wouldn't be weird under normal circumstances and considering how Meliana often found herself in private with Rhaenyra. But a small, perhaps paranoid part of her was still stressing over her meeting with Otto Hightower—if Rhaenyra found out about what had been said between them, she wouldn't be as forgiving as she normally was.
The princess' hair was already made by a different handmaid. Rhaenyra's lips got upturned as Meliana showed her the dress. "It's beautiful," she said. She's glowing with happiness and what the girl could only assume was pride.
"You need to look beautiful during such an important time, your grace" Meliana agreed. "You always do, but what's the most important is to feel beautiful."
The future Queen of the Realm wouldn't even undress herself. Meliana did everything for her, even the bits a girl the princess' age was fully capable of doing herself and the handmaiden treated her differently than she would treat herself. She made sure she was being gentle and soft around the princess, thinking that perhaps that erased the roughness that she treated herself with. The sharp edges, she kept them hidden and reserved only for herself. She always looked very comfortable being taken care of, being pampered. After all, that was how she was raised.
And Meliana━who had realised she could only get butterflies when she looked at other women, instead of men━thought she should feel some kind of excitement as she undressed the princess. She should be feeling something. Like she had some kind of power; the Targaryens were said to be closer to gods than humans and there she was, a mere mortal, a hopeless bastard seeing a goddess in her most vulnerable state.
And yet, she found herself feeling absolutely nothing. It was no secret that princess Rhaenyra was stunning. Objectively breathtaking, even. But maybe that was why Meliana couldn't feel anything but stoic admiration for her; gods were meant to be worshipped, not loved.
