~ 1 ~

                                    

                                          

                            

                                
                            
                              
                                  
                              
                              
                                
                                  
                                  
                                
                              
                             
                            
                            
                          
                          
Change was inevitable. Imminent even. The princess could almost taste its bitter flavour on her tongue. The feeling that her idyllic world would soon come crashing down dug a hole into her gut, buried itself down and sunk its claws into her. No matter what she did, this sense of foreboding ceased to subside, it gnawed at her consciousness day and night
Change was fate, yet when it came calling, Aemmaliese would barricade the doors.
The tangible smell of it surrounded the room as the King and his small council deliberated the upcoming tourney. The princess knew that even still her father still prayed for a son, an heir. He had neglected the idea of his eldest the right to the Iron Throne all her life. Logically she knew it would never come to be, the lords of the realm would never let a woman rule The Seven Kingdoms. Still, she fed into the delusion and would constantly reinforce the idea. She was after all the first born child. It was her birthright. No difference in anatomy could change that. Not to her at least.
Aemmaliese pressed herself against the wall and peered through a slight crack in the stone.
"The tourney will take the better part of a week. Before the Games are over, my son will be born, and the whole realm will celebrate!" King Viserys cast his optimistic gaze across the table, nodding to himself.
The Grand Maester did not seem so sure, "We have no way of predicting the sex of the child, Your Grace."
The surrounding Lords kept quiet as the King proclaimed that it was what The Mother intended; Queen Aemma would at last bring forth a boy. Not being an acolyte of The Seven Pointed Star herself, Aemmaliese scoffed internally. Her mother and father had both prayed to The Mother incessantly over the years in hopes of a son, alas they had only ever been blessed by two daughters and many failed terms. It seemed as though Viserys was grasping onto any hope he had left, making promises he was not prepared to deliver on.
Boring of the conversation, the princess left her hiding place and started down the halls of the keep. Though she had lived here since she was a babe, it had never felt like home. Dragonstone however, did. She had always yearned for the stronghold. Flying atop the dragonmount saddled to Novax, was the closest she had felt to her forbearers. Surrounded by the carved stone walls, Aemmaliese would close her eyes and imagine herself in the empire that was Old Valyria.
May it be that it was her ancestral seat or she seemed the most herself amongst its rocky shores, she did not quite know.
The sound of her slippered feet on the marble was quickly drowned by the echo of boots swiftly gaining on her.
"Princess!"
She turned, "Ser Harrold?"
The knight came to a stop before her, his cloak swaying at his back, "His Grace has orders to not be disturbed whilst the council gathers, I sought you the moment I heard."
Aemmaliese felt a sudden dread, the coldness of it snaked around her gut, "Is it my mother? Is she okay?-"
"Your Lady Mother is perfectly well, Princess," he shook his head, "No, it is another. Prince Daemon."
The fear made way to something else in that moment; confusion.
"My Uncle? Why he has not been seen at court for an age. Take me to him." There were many a question swarming her head at that moment, though it was no good trying to answer them herself. She quickened her pace, hastening themselves along.
"It was said that he passed through the gates of the Red Keep at first light." Ser Harrold threw a look over his shoulder.
"My Uncle was likely skiving about the place, finding flaws to taunt my father with." Aemmaliese paused, "Does the King know of his arrival?"
They turned the corner towards the tall doors to the throne room, "Not yet, Princess."
"Let us keep it that way for now." Ser Harrold nodded then proceeded to cast open a door.
There at the opposite end of the room, sprawled across the Iron Throne, my father's throne, lay Daemon Targaryen in all his Valyrian glory. His Violet eyes were closed as he basked in the daylight streaming through the windows, it illuminated his pale hair. It shone an iridescent shade of silver as he hummed quietly to himself; a ballad he had most likely heard from his time on the Street of Silk.
The Princess smiled as the knight next to her mumbled curses, "It is okay, Ser, leave the matter with me," she said before she started forwards across the marbled floor.
Each step she took reverberated off the walls causing Daemon to glance towards her and grin slowly. Aemmalies kept her head high as she ignored her uncle's smug expression and halted a few feet from the base of the throne.
"You have grown." He stated as he swung himself to a sitting position.
"That tends to happen over time." She angled her head to the side slightly, "What business do you have that requires you to sit the King's throne?"
"I heard he was throwing a tourney in my name, so I thought it be best to warm my seat,"
Gods he was smug, "The tourney is for his heir."
"Just as I said." At that he stood and descended towards her.
Aemmaliese planted her feet and stood her ground as he gazed down at her, "His new heir."
With her correction he chuckled and lifted his calloused hand to touch her silver curls. He twirled a strand around his finger and said, "Until your mother brings forth a son, you are all cursed with me." 
The princess swatted his hand away and ground her teeth. Before she could respond, a voice sounded from behind her, "Then we shall both pray for a brother," Rhaenyra smirked as she came to stand by her older sister.
The younger princess's cream ruffled gown was a stark contrast to Aemmaliese's deep maroon attire. Seemingly what the pair lacked with their distinctive differences, they made up for with their shared devotion for one another.
"I brought you both something." with that he reached into his pocket and presented them with a gift each. In Aemmaliese's palm he placed a black dagger, its leather hilt was adorned with rubies, their colour similar to that of blood. Her eyes widened, it was beautiful.
"The malice in those eyes of yours cannot compare to its honed edge." 
"Be careful I don't slit your throat while you sleep." the Valyrian rolled off her tongue like silk.
Smiling, Daemon then turned to Rhaenyra with an intricately carved steel necklace. Rhaenyra gasped as she ran her jewelled fingers over the design, "Valyrian steel? Like Darksister?" 
The Prince ushered her round and proceeded the place the necklace across her skin, "Now we all carry a small piece of our ancestry."
"It's beautiful." Rhaenyra sighed, looking to her sister for her approval. Aemmaliese nodded absentmindedly in agreement but could not think of anything but the weight in her grip. While the jewellery was divine, in her mind, the steel blade out shone it in every instance. The elaborate craftmanship was otherworldly. Magical even. It was as though it was calling her name; coaxing her to reach out and graze her fingers against the razored edge. Hungry for her blood. So alluring in its ethereal appearance, the princess had not noticed upon first glance that there seemed to be etching along the flat of the dagger. Just as she was trying to make out the script, she was pulled from her hypnosis. Looking up, she found that Daemon and her sister had crossed the throne room and were waiting for her by the entrance.
"Aem, are you okay?" Rhaenyra looked troubled.
The princess then slid her dagger between her chemise and corset, "Perfectly so."