After the tragedy that had befallen our great house a dark cloud fell over the palace.
Whispers calling into question the line of succession could be heard spreading through the halls like wildfire.
As our days in King's Landing came to a close my brothers and I shared one last sparring match down by the bay before we were to return to White Harbor.
"I heard Father say the small council means to dissuade the King from allowing Daemon to remain heir," Torrhen remarked.
Taken off guard I frowned, narrowly side stepping Medrick's blade. "You heard Father say this? Who would be heir if not our Uncle?" I questioned barely blocking another blow from my older brother.
"Leave this gossiping to the ladies of the court, brother," Medrick grit through his teeth, "Focus, Viserra."
Ignoring our brother Torrhen turned a page in his book,"It's said that the Prince was overheard in a whore house proclaiming the King's son 'heir for a day'."
I frowned upon hearing this, "Surely not. Where's the proof behind these accusations?"
I was no fool. My Uncle was rebellious and had a reputation as a rogue Prince. I had no doubt this is something he'd say but I would never believe he'd be so stupid as to make such a proclamation in such open and undesirable company. The King would have his head.
Believing he had found an opening, Medrick lunged forward only for me to quickly disarm him. As his blade clattered onto the stone I planted my hand firmly on his chest and shoved him into the ground.
He growled, "How do you do that with so little effort? Is everything just gifted to you?"
His words stung but I offered my hand nonetheless. "Perhaps I disarm you with so little effort because it is you who taught me so well?" I asked handing him the training sword.
The corner of his mouth twitched upwards as his frustration melted away and he squeezed my shoulder affectionately.
lCousins," Rhaenyra greeted, "Viserra might I steal you away?"
Medrick nodded dismissing me from our training.
"Of course, Princess," I agreed, offering my arm. We walked in companionable silence until she was sure we wouldn't be overheard.
"My Father has decided to supplant me as heir and Princess of Dragonstone," Rhaenyra spoke quietly.
"I suppose there is some truth to courtly gossip then," I mused.
Rhaenyra stopped, gauging my reaction. "You knew?" She questioned.
"Torrhen just now mentioned that he heard rumor of there being discontent having our Uncle as heir. Some believe he is not fit to wear the crown," I explained, careful not to tarnish my younger cousin's view of our favorite Uncle.
"Do you think I am?" Her voice was soft and unsure.
I thought for a moment and I noticed her hold her breath. "I think you're the very best of us, Cousin. If any of us is fit to rule it's you. A woman has never sat the Iron throne but should it happen in my lifetime I would be honored to call you Queen," I said finally, bowing.
As I straightened, Rhaenyra threw her arms around me tightly.
"Thank you, Viserra," She whispered into my hair.
"Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen. The first of her name. Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men. Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm. It has quite a nice ring to it. I'm sure there will be quite a few disgruntled Lords," I smirked.
