"𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 - 𝘋𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘮𝘦? 𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘮𝘺 𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘦"
𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇, Lady Rosaline Stark and Prince Daeron Targaryen spent several years never crossing paths, never knowing how deep love can ac...
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—— " i'm not anything. the true king was rhaegar. not me. not viserys. him. i'm not meant to be king " —— ༺ ♔ ༻
——— IT'D BEEN A FEW DAYS since Rosaline discovered the truth, and she'd been terrified to go anywhere, in fear the Queen knew she knew. Anytime she passed her in the hallways, she'd politely smiled at her, acting as though she knew absolutely nothing. And she'd stay that way for as long as she could. She didn't want to do anything or acknowledge it in fear of the Queen's wrath. She'd put a target on her back if the Queen knew that Rosaline Stark knew about her secret. That her children were bastards.
Her father... didn't have the same feelings for it. He wanted to do things right, he wanted to settle things correctly. Do the honorable thing.
He didn't tell Rosaline much of what he was doing, but she knew it had to be something bad because anytime she attempted to speak on it, he would tell her to stop talking about it. Or he'd simply walk away.
Things were getting tense, especially after the King came back from his hunting trip. Rosaline was with Adrian for another archery lesson when other knights came rushing into the training yards after just hearing the horrific news.
"Sloane!"
Rosaline and Adrian both glanced back at the knights, staring at them confused. They appeared out of breath, as if they had just ran through the entire castle to find them.
"It's the King," one of them spoke and they stared at him in anticipation. "He's just gotten back from his trip— and— a boar—"
Rosaline rose her brows in shock before she and Adrian spared each other glances. He stared at her in worry for the King, and she could clearly see it.
"Go," she said, gesturing him towards the other knights watching them. "Go on."
Adrian then ran off with the knights and Rosaline watched him, worry striking her. What had happened to the King?
༺ ♔ ༻
——— ACROSS THE NARROW SEA, Daeron had spent some time alone in his tent, thinking about his brother's death. And what exactly that meant for him and Daenerys. But especially him.
He was the last trueborn son of the Targaryen line. He knew what that meant, but he didn't know if he liked it. Maybe he didn't want to be King.
His thoughts were suddenly pushed to the side when he heard footsteps towards his tent. When he glanced up, he tensed when Doreah stepped inside, a stern look over her.
"Your Grace..."
Your Grace. That's what they'd call him now.
"Don't call me that," he said as he stood. But the girl stared at him confused.
