ROSE THORN
ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏꜱᴛ ʙᴇᴀᴜᴛɪꜰᴜʟ ʀᴏꜱᴇꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴏʀɴꜱ
ꕥ
✦ ╮ everyone underestimated her, thought her just a pretty face, a silly princess. they never realised she was a dragon, a rose full of thorns.
but when the dragons dance and the fire ta...
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☁️ ·̩͙✧ C H A P T E R S E V E N
THE PURPLE of the satin fabric made a distinction between black and green tones. Against her mother's wishes, Mevanya had worn a purple dress to dinner that night. The others were either in black or green.
Several times her gaze wandered to the brown-haired boy who sat on the other side of her without meaning to, only to find him staring at her as well. The awkwardness was so precise that night that at least they couldn't tell if it was between her and Jacaerys or the whole table in general.
When her father arrived it was like a breath of relief to them all, those few minutes when they were all gathered in absurd silence seemed like hours of torture. They stood up to greet the king. Mevanya, who after that evening had changed her perception of her father a little, smiled at the man as he passed by her hand and gave her a smile. As they resumed their seats, the awkwardness returned, no one knew what to do, how to act, let alone what to expect.
"I'm glad to see you tonight, together," her father began to say, even his voice was heavy in the sickness, and Mevanya felt a hint of pity for him at that moment.
Her mother began the prayer, as always, seizing the moment. She knew the second she mentioned Vaemond Veralyon's name that she had managed to make everything so much worse than it already was, and she couldn't help but roll her eyes at the completely unnecessary indiscretion.
"This is an occasion to celebrate," her father spoke again, "My grandsons, Jace and Luke, are marrying their cousins, Baela and Rhaena, so a toast, to the boys and their betrothed."
When she had to raise her cup and drink from it, the drink tasted bitter after those words.
"A toast also to Prince Lucerys, the future Lord of the Tides."
This time, she genuinely smiled as she raised her cup, pointing it directly at the boy who smiled back.
"And last but not least, let us toast, for the boys' is not the only engagement."
Suddenly her heart began to beat too fast, those who did not know of the said engagement arched their eyebrows in confusion, Mevanya could only look at her goblet, anywhere but straight ahead, anywhere but at Jacaerys.
"For my children, Aemond and Mevanya, and their betrothal."
Her heart sank in her chest. It was done. Dictated by the king. Everyone raised their glasses, Mevanya was the last to do so, a lump in her throat as she raised her head as well and inadvertently met Jacaerys's scrutinizing gaze, the boy's clouded with a thousand feelings, but she could see clear disappointment among them all too well. Another stab at her heart.
She took a long drink, not in celebration, but in the hope that the alcohol would take away the terrible heaviness in her chest and let her breathe. She almost felt at that moment that she would have a panic attack, but she held herself back with all might from letting the anguish pass.
