ROSE THORN
ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏꜱᴛ ʙᴇᴀᴜᴛɪꜰᴜʟ ʀᴏꜱᴇꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴏʀɴꜱ
ꕥ
✦ ╮ everyone underestimated her, thought her just a pretty face, a silly princess. they never realised she was a dragon, a rose full of thorns.
but when the dragons dance and the fire ta...
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☁️ ·̩͙✧ C H A P T E R T W E N T Y O N E
MEVANYA HAD MEMORISED all the paths and corridors Daeron had mentioned in his letters over the years. Thanks to that, she was able to lead her grandfather into the catacombs of the tower without anyone suspecting.
After Otto had revealed her nephew's death, Mevanya had told him in a voice so calm that it made even Cregan Stark's skin crawl with how cold and calculated it sounded, that if he didn't come with her quietly and stay silent, Ilaxia and Venmor would burn the city to the ground.
"You wouldn't do it, this is a sacred place, child."
Mevanya's response to her grandfather's words didn't even need to be vocal; the look of pure fire was enough for Otto Hightower to know that his granddaughter was telling the truth. After all, this had been the same girl he had seen tearing her own brother's skin off with her fingernails, the same girl whose eyes, when he saw her eyes after Aegon had handed her the head of the youngest of her dragons, had reminded him so much of Maegor Targaryen's.
This Mevanya before him was no longer the same Princess of Hearts he had tried to control. This Mevanya was a Princess of Ashes, who would not hesitate to turn an entire city into a reminder of why people should fear an angry Targaryen.
So Otto had no choice but to accompany his granddaughter where she led him. The Greens could not afford to lose the forces that Oldtown gave them in this war against Rhaenyra.
Arriving at the dungeons, with no prisoners, there were no guards guarding the place, so they were completely alone.
One of the hooded figures, the taller and bigger of the two, pushed the former Hand into one of the cells and closed the door before the man could try to leave. He then returned to his previous position behind the Princess who now held a torch in her hands.
Otto Hightower was struck by a horrible feeling as he saw the emotionless look on the princess's face.
"Whatever your game is, you'd better stop right now, Mevanya, before you get caught." "That's what this is all about, isn't it? It's all one big game. Plays between kings and queens and pawns and rooks that never seems to end. Tell me, grandfather, how does it feel to have lost so spectacularly in a game you've been planning all your miserable life?" "You're not making any sense, child, let me get out of here," Mevanya's eyes seemed to grow emptier and emptier with each passing second, and Otto's nervousness increasing by the second. "You taught me to play very well, grandfather, perhaps too well, to your misfortune." "This was never about a game, Mevanya, but about the survival of the kingdom."
Mevanya sighed with a small dark laugh, losing her gaze in the way the flames danced so calmly in the torch on her hand.
"Too bad you won't be alive to see the fruits of your games explode, don't you think?"
