Part Nine

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Warning:

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You were lounging in your parlour; reading when Rhaenyra entered like a gust of wind.

"You seem a bit more cheerful than yesterday..." you remark, studying her over the top of your book.

"More or less so..." Rhaenyra shrugs, throwing herself into a nearby chair.

Setting the book aside, you turn your full attention toward her.

"Out with it then..."

"Father has finally agreed to send aid to the battle at the Stepstones" Rhaenyra informs you.

"I doubt, Daemon would be too pleased with that..." you cringe at the thought of his response to the news.

"Which is precisely what I had told Father" Rhaenyra nods in agreement.

"I had offered my assistance to him before, but he declined it. Insisted on fighting the battle on his own, but he did promise me that if all else failed; he would send word for my aid."

"Vhagar would have enjoyed rekindling the good-old days of warfare, even more so than you" Rhaenyra remarks.

"Those were my precise words..." you smirk in response.

"But alas, you know how our Uncle's pride can get the better of him. Daemon would sooner have Caraxes swallow him whole than beg for help."

"I agree..." Rhaenyra nods.

"The rift between he and Father has become quite great... I had hoped that they would have made amends by now."

"You know how stubborn Daemon is; more so than anyone, as you inherited that trait from him yourself" you remind her.

"And Father... he listens too much to the poisonous words of that leech, Otto."

"It is a never-ending battle with those two..." Rhaenyra replies.

"Father puts his foot down when it comes to a subject, and Daemon does everything in his power to rebel against the decision if he does not agree with it."

"Precisely..." you nod with a huge grin.

"Which is the trait that I have inherited from our loving Uncle."

"Let us place that subject aside for the moment" you brush off the conversation then.

"What is the second piece of news you have not spoken of yet?"

"Father has allowed for me to wed a husband of my own choosing" Rhaenyra states.

Your brows furrow at your sister's lack of emotion behind the statement.

"That is good news, is it not? This means, you do not have to marry that weasel, Jason Lannister."

"I suppose so" Rhaenyra shrugs.

"Rhaenyra..." you sternly stare at your sister.

"Why must you complicate things this much? We have both known from a young age what is expected of us, it is our duty to carry on the Targaryen bloodline."

"You should be one to speak..." Rhaenyra scoffs at you.

"You are not the one that is being forced to marry and become a breeding mule."

Straightening up in your seat, with pursed lips; you stare at your sister.

"There in, my dear Sister, you are wrong..." you drawl out.

"Meaning?" Rhaenyra frowns at your remark.

"I myself have been given six months to find a husband, if not; Father will find one for me."

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