#rogueprinxe

It had been hardly two weeks now since her husband Laenor was killed in a fight with his friend. To this Rhaenyra had no real context of why they were fighting or how it could have got so heated that blades were drawn. She knew that her now deceased husband favored men and had spent much of his time with the very same man that had been his undoing. In her mourning she had returned to Dragonstone to spend time with her children and her Uncle who also was in mourning for his late wife. 

The loss of Laenor though wasn’t a big loss to her at all for they barely had any love between them. It was a marriage of convenience and a way to keep the suitors off of her back along with her father. She still had this nagging feeling in the back of her mind though that her Uncle had something to do with the fight that was between the two. It was almost too convenient for him to die so soon after his own sister, the wife of her uncle, had passed too from a broken heart. It was still nice to have his company though.

RHAENYRA scoffed, turning her head away from her uncle in a whirl of silver, blonde hair - more to hide the tinge of red that had flushed her cheeks in embarrassment than anything else. 

“I’ve watched plenty of swordsmen practice, Uncle. I’m sure I’ll be able to figure it out in time,” she replied lightly, retightening her grip on the sword despite the sudden doubt that Daemon’s intrusion on her impromptu practice had introduced. 

Rhaenyra chanced another glance, allowing the chipped practice sword to fall ever so slightly as she did. “Besides... what my father doesn’t know certainly won’t hurt him. And I’m not going to tell him.” She hesitated, eyes narrowing slightly. “Are you?”

Rhaenyra looked up in surprise at the sudden entrance of a voice in her chambers, eyebrows raising at the sight of her uncle. The babe was wrapped in linen in her arms, finally apparently sleeping after tiring of feeding. Long, thin fingers rose to readjust the robe that she wore, pulling it tighter across her bosom as best she could without jostling Jacaerys - Jace, as she’d already decided to call him only a few short hours into his life. Then - only after ensuring the pale skin of her breast and the puckered, engorged nipple that her son had only just ceased his attachment to was fully covered - she shot Daemon a mockingly affronted gaze. 

“how evergreen, our group of friends. don't think we'll say that word again.” alicent smiled though it was twinged with pain, looking back on her time at her friend’s side. she didn’t know if things could be mended with rhaenyra. she was sure that daemon was likely to be privy to her friend’s thoughts on this same matter. for that reason it felt odd to be telling him this sort of thing. “and soon they'll have the nerve to deck the halls that we once walked through,” she’d done this. it was alicent’s fault even if she didn’t want any of it.

Eyes narrow as the princess side-steps one of the stone pillars separating the passage entrance and her bedchambers, blocking any further entrance into the room as best she could. Although, if he’d truly wanted to barge in, he certainly could have, she reasoned somewhere in the recess of her mind. 

“Have you not caused enough trouble, Uncle? The rumors are running quite rampant at present, according to Otto.” Rhaenyra cleared her throat at this, glancing away in what she hoped came across as somewhat haughty or perhaps even cold. It was easier to focus on that, rather than recalling what exactly had caused the rumors, ultimately... 

“Do you know what my father would do if you were caught in here, at this time of night?”