#ncridia

the two were people watching in the streets of sunspear when he says it. caerella had been caught up in the beauty of the city , honestly forgetting that he was even beside her but his words snap her right back into the moment. the pale-haired lady looks over at him quickly , grin still present with eyes wide. she lets out a nervous giggle. it had been a while since she had heard such sweet words. her face flushed light pink as her violet gaze was then cast downward. “i … thank you, my lord. you are too kind.” the young targaryen had heard such things many, many times before but something made this feel different. 

it did not surprise her when the whore encouraged her indulgence. she was right. life in westeros was unpredictable, especially as of late. it was important to live one’s life to the fullest while you still could. you were only young for so long, especially by womanly standards. yet still, caerella had a very specific role to play in this story. it was important she stay mindful of that. but gods how she wanted to throw cautious to the wind and live free as a bird– at least sometimes. the targaryen lady also had a strong lust for power, though her lust didn’t stop there.

“you certainly aren’t wrong,” she replies, sighing quietly. “and i should probably listen to you..” she couldn’t lie. well, she could but she didn’t really want to– at least not right now. what was the harm in a candid conversation like this?

“neither will i,” caerella replies with a grin. it seemed as though his eyes appeared to be a bit glassy already but it was hard to tell in the dim light. the targaryen lady, however, was still stone-cold sober. dorne had so been quite exciting yet this particular little ‘ party ‘ felt tense and boring. that’s exactly what it was– suffering. so, she would join him in undulging in the delcious dornish wine. raising the glass to her lips, the liquid is gone within a few sips and it leaves her lips stained a deep crimson.

she got herself another and another and another. her fair cheeks were soon blushing pink as intoxication set in. “this night is turning out to be not so insufferable,” she says, words blurring into one another. her violet gaze looks up at him through thick lashes with wine stained lips curled into a smirk. “don’t you agree, my lord?”

her brow furrows as she looks up at the taller man. with the way the world their world works, there was quite a number of things he could be speaking about. caerella knew of some rumors being spread about the two of them but she didn’t think he really listened to such things. “i’m not sure i know what you mean, my lord,” she replies softly.

a winter rose. it immediately caught her eye the first time she visited winterfell and she could remember the young harrion handing her one as soon as they’d been introduced. vaelar told her later that was when he knew he was making the right choice for her. he said that there were few good men in westeros, but that he had a feeling the young wolf would grow to be one. perhaps he wanted something for his daughter that he himself could not be– a good man. now they would never know.