"I am not your problem anymore, Daemon. So who am I offending?" The words rolled off my tongue were laced with anger, so much anger- anger that had lingered within me for years, dormant as he used me for his pleasure.
"So I won't give you a title a...
"You're not my homeland anymore, so what am I defending now?"
In which Lady Arla Celtigar finds that there is more to her life than warming Prince Daemon Targaryen's bed.
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Freya Mavor as Lady Arla Celtigar
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Lady Arla Celtigar was born to be great, born to be the coveted daughter of one of the eldest houses— a great and proud one that had the blood of Old Valyria running in it's veins. And she was great, loved by many— loved by her family, and by anyone that ever met the girl.
Until nobody loved her anymore, until she became a social exile because of a mistake, a mistake that cost her everything. Arla was ten and three when she had her first crush, a young esquire that served her father's court. It was pure, soft, and gentle— the way that he loved her.
She kissed him one night behind the stables. A foolish kiss, a kiss that turned her into a harlot, a kiss that branded her as tainted and unpure as the tale spread like wildfire through the court in Westeros.
Arla did not love since. No one wanted her, no one wanted the whorish daughter of Lord Bartimos Celtigar. No proposals ever came forth for her, and none of the ones her father sent were accepted.
