This Barbie Is Godzilla

“Rumours say the boy dancing with my daughter is your son.”

Your smile turned into surprise when you realised Prince Maekar Targaryen in the flesh was speaking with you. It was rare seeing the Prince entertain with guests; it was less rare seeing him sitting behind the Royal table with a judgmental frown.

“He is, Your Highness.” You answered after a quick bow.

“They are too young.”

“Too young for… dancing? Your Highness?”

“To propose to my daughter.” He snapped back with a gnashing tone, without even looking at you. He was too busy checking on his daughter to care about the offence caused by assuming your intention.

“It is not my son’s plan and neither mine.” You said with the same tone, leaving his title on the back of your tongue.

“Good.”

“Good.”

A thick silence fell between you as you both stood side by side, carefully ignoring each other. You were visibly annoyed by his assumption, but he didn’t care or didn’t realise it. Unable to put his position before his arrogance, you tied to the finger.

“Is your husband somewhere?”

“Would you like to ask him to stop my son from dancing with the Princess?”

“It was not my intention, but your suggestion is tempting.”

“I’m sorry, but it is not possible.”

“And why is that?” He asked sharply, frowning at you.

“My husband is at the family cemetery.” You served, meeting his gaze and enjoying the renewed thick silence, this time filled with the Prince’s embarrassment.

“My condolences.” He quickly said, moving his attention elsewhere.

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

From time to time, some guests walked by and bowed at Maekar’s presence. He could hear them murmuring as their thirsty eyes tried to catch something from you two. The message sent was clear; Prince Maekar was caught by Lady Stark. It wasn’t his purpose, and neither yours, but it didn’t matter. He was entertaining himself with you for a long time now, and withdrawing could only confirm their suspicions.

“I can ask my son to stop dancing with the Princess if Your Highness desires.” You said then, satisfied with your little revenge and not wanting to make things worse.

Maekar considered it. It would have been her last banquet for years, and most likely, she would have left Summerhall only on her wedding day, if there ever was one. Her smile, though, and her belly laugh as she was having fun with that boy melted his daddy heart.

“No. Let them.” His jaw tightened as he spoke, but he felt strangely good in seeing your tiny smile.

The tension between you two eased enough for your boldness to come out with a question. Or better, half of it.

“Do you danc…”

“No.”

The speed with which he responded turned off your affability toward him, and the silence that fell among you once again was for the awkwardness that followed your half-question. You wanted to go away, but you couldn’t, not without the Prince’s dismissal. Unlucky you, Maekar was having his little revenge, or maybe — deep inside him — he was just glad of your company.

Your eyes, all for your son until that moment, moved casually around the hall, noticing the small groups of guests pointing their attention at you. Some of them were smiling, while others were shaking their heads in disapproval. You knew the reason was the Prince's presence next to you, but you couldn’t do otherwise.

“The party is magnificent. I wish His Highness Prince Daeron a happy life with the princess.” You said then, to distract yourself from the gossiping.

“Thank you… Lady Stark.”

It was the first time he used your title and your name, not to mention the tone of voice with which he thanked you. He sounded soft, or at least respectful. Very different from the beginning. You couldn’t help but stare, in surprise at first, but then you found yourself appreciating the little details of his face, the elegance of the outfit and his bearing, half from his military experience and half from his Royal origins.

You were still staring at him when another Lord approached bluntly.

“My Lady, spare me a dance?” He bowed and offered his hand.

Maekar’s reaction was instant. “Are you blind? Lady Stark is busy. Go away.” He barked.

“Yes, Your Highness.” The man bowed and disappeared.

It was a matter of seconds, but his little show dragged even more attention. The turmoil that it caused inside you was impossible to ignore, though. It’s been a while since you felt at the centre of someone’s attention, and it was pleasant… very much pleasant.

“Presenting themselves as if I weren’t here. Unacceptable.”

“Indeed, Your Highness.”

Your approval was enough to calm him down and focus on you again. Maekar was slowly realising how pleasant your company was, and the attraction he felt was most likely for your not-so-submissive behaviour.

“I do not dance because I think it’s a foolish and useless activity.” He said then, as if he wanted to justify his earlier rejection.

“Agree. But it is a good, harmless way to have physical closeness. Especially if there is a certain interest.”

Maekar frowned and snorted. “Ridiculous.”

“Is it, Your Highness?” You smiled widely.

The question remained unanswered because your son and the Princess stopped dancing, and now he was looking for you. You walked away, without the Prince’s permission, without taking leave, without greeting him properly.