Charlotte was born a royal, a princess. A Lannister. Through the acts of thievery, she ends up in Winterfell, being raised by Lord and Lady Stark. As Jon Arryn's death has come to pass, King Robert needs a new Hand. Who other than her father, Eddard...
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Charlotte's POV
"Knew what, Karalyn?"
Can someone, you know, tell me the truth for once?
Karalyn drags a chair over to me, her eyes pulling my gaze towards her. "Charlotte... None of us would've imagined that this would happen to anyone. But you..." She lifted my chin softly, melting the metaphorical shield I was putting up. "You are special. More special than any other born before you..."
"None of us... Who is this us?"
She shakes her head back and forth. "I may have used the wrong terminology... Us is more of the family that has been waiting so long for someone like you to return."
The family? Is she out of her mind?
"Charlotte, think back to a time before the rebellion that allowed your father to take the throne... when Aegon V was ruler of the Seven Kingdoms. He had a few children, some being Jaehaerys and Rhaelle. Can you remember?"
Remember? I massaged my temples, thinking back to lessons I received from Lady Catelyn when I lived in Winterfell. "Those were the Targaryens... His was the fourth child of King Maekar and Dyanna Dyane... He became King because his two oldest brother's were dead, and his other brother became a Maester. Other than that, I... Uh... Don't remember anything else."
"Rhaelle Targaryen is your great grandmother."
She's not my grandmother, because Robert isn't my father. "Karalyn... This is why I have to get away from King's Landing. Robert isn't my father. My mother had an affair..." With Jaime, my uncle.
"You know that's not true. You survived the fire. The flames were upon your skin and you did not burn. It's the magic you inherited from great grandmother. Why do you think your hair turned red after you were exposed to fire? You carry the Blood of Valyria in your veins."
My eyes bulge from the sockets, absorbing at least half of the words that came from her mouth. Dragon blood? "I'll say it again... Robert is not my father. I look nothing like him. Baratheons are born with dark hair, and mine is... or was the lightest of blonde."
"Your cousin, Shireen, is not black of hair, and she is a true born Baratheon."
I kept my thoughts to myself, as I looked away and admired the Targaryen banner hung on her wall. Wait, why is that hanging there?
She brings me away from my thoughts. "Sweetie, you are the ghost of your Queen mother. There is no doubt about that. Her genes are strong in you, but it does not overpower the blood of the Targaryens. You were born with purple eyes, deep and beautiful. I imagined you've heard the story from Maester Pycelle about your birth. You were not strong, and on the verge leaving this world. In order to ensure your survival, Pycelle gave you a droplet of wildfire."
