#unbeleveable

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Around them, people were laughing and enjoying themselves. Some dancing, some drinking. Corlys, while usually enjoying a good conversation, opted to staying seated next to Rhaenys. One of his hands had found its way to her thigh under the table, simply staying there for a moment before his fingers began to draw lazy circles over the fabric of her dress. He was well aware that she would scold him later but for now, he was enjoying himself.

@unbeleveable : "You know exactly what you’re doing."

@unbeleveable asked: Don't touch me. Don't you fucking dare. / Rhaenys for Otto

For  a  moment,  the  Hand  of  the  King  simply  regarded  her.  Age  had  taught  him  many  things,  chief  among  them  that  anger  was  rarely  improved  by  answering  it  with  more  of  the  same. His  hand  withdrew  slowly.  The  faintest  tightening  of  his  jaw  was  the  only  sign  that  her  words  had  landed  as  intended. "Very  well,  Princess,"  Otto  said.  His  voice  remained  measured,  almost  calm.  He  clasped  his  hands  behind  his  back  instead,  creating  the  distance  she  had  demanded.  His  eyes  lingered  on  her  face,  studying  her  as  he  had  studied  lords,  kings,  and  rivals  for  decades. 

“The same thing most girls are afraid of, I suppose,” she wrings out the damp cloth with which she has been gently cleaning the lady’s wounds. Lady Rhaenys is more talkative than usual, but the maester says her wounds have healed enough to slowly ween her from constant servings of poppy milk so it’s only natural, “I fear I will not make a good marriage, I fear that there will be strife.”

She fears her brothers, that Aegon will sell her to the highest bidder for the sliver of kings’ blood she contains. She fears Aemond, that he will drag her by her hair down to the Dragonpit and toss her to the waiting maws on the off chance one might pick her. However, she is a Green, or so she is told, so such things are not words that will leave her mouth lest they wriggle through the walls of Rhaenys’ lovely prison to the lord of whispers’ ears.

Lilia wasn't yet sure how it had happened, why it happened, or how it would unhappen, but she knew exactly where her first suspicions were headed. To the smirking, joke-cracking infamous witch in front of her.

Putting one hand on her hip, Lilia fixed Harkness with a look.

"Are you laughing because you had something to do with this or are you just laughing because you're Agatha?"

a ma vie de coer entier. (my  whole  heart  for  my  whole  life) mon  debut  et  ma  fin  (my  beginning  and  my  end)  se  souvenir  du  passe,  et  qu’il  ya  un  avenir  (remember  the  past,  and  that  there  is  a  future)