♔ HEAVY IS THE CROWN ➤ JACAERYS VELARYON

↳x. OF FEAR AND FREEDOM

↳ x. OF FEAR AND FREEDOM
SEASON 1
EPISODE 8: THE LORDS OF THE TIDE
—HOUSE OF THE DRAGON—

HEAVY IS THE CROWN

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KINGSLANDING

|| A GOLDEN HUE OF DANCING FLAMES CASCADED ACROSS THE PEBBLED ENVELOPE'S SURFACE. Vyselyra found herself in her opulent bedroom, enveloped by the rich tapestries and delicate furnishings. But the thought of spending the night confined within those walls was suffocating. Her heart yearned for the vibrant lights and bustling streets of the city just beyond the castle gates. The princess sighed with slight exasperation, her furrowing brow creasing the skin across her forehead.

The poor girl half anticipated the note upon the table to be another warning about Vaemond or maybe a call to return home. Even with her acerbic tongue and her outwardly confident demeanor, this sense of disorientation had overwhelmed her—leaving the feeling adrift in a sea of uncertainty.

Yet amidst this rumbling internal turmoil, her curiosity piqued as if the little girl within her escaped for just a moment. Vyselyra tentatively approached the table before gingerly picking up the note—examining it with cautious interest.

Her index finger slid open the flap—hesitant at slowly unfolding the letter. The handwriting in a former greeting was elegant and delicate, that an ah-hah moment flashed across her mind. Only one person possessed that kind of penmanship - Baela. Within in her note, The young Velaryon had awaited outside the door of her unexpecting uncle—listening in...

The Manderly princess heart's quickened as her eyes strained to read the language of their blood faster—quickly deciphering their hidden meaning. The words spoke of details about Lord Vaemond's cruel plan to have her betrothed to him. And if denied, he was ready to fight or even kill to have it happen.

The young princess let all previous glee slip from her, a vile expression had made across her features. Vyselyra just stared off into a lonely corner where a rather tall window sat. One decked with a multitude of glass panes. The night had fallen upon Kings Landing rather quickly—golden stars bloomed together across the velvet sky. And then the moon came across much like a mother does to her weeping child, singing a soft lullaby.

But attempting to suppress the tumultuous thoughts proved to be an arduous task for Vyselyra. She lingered in her current position, her gaze shifting hesitantly between the enchanting view beyond the window and the intriguing letter held delicately in her hands. The trepidation that now coursed through her veins was unlike anything she had ever experienced before. A knot of unease formed in the depths of her being, causing Vyselyra to choke down the bitter taste rising in her throat.

Vyselyra gave into temptation and began pacing around. Her fingers intertwining more and more as worry made itself at home upon her face. She was known for her eloquence, her biting wit, and her ability to weave words into masterpieces of sarcasm. Reveling in the power of expression, using her linguistic prowess to assert her dominance in any given situation.

This letter, however, presented an entirely new challenge. Its contents seemed to hold a sway over the princess, what exactly was Vaemond thinking of doing? It was threatening to unearth hidden vulnerabilities she had guarded so fiercely. Ones that spanned years before.