Rhaella thought that the smell of King's Landing was unbearable.

The doors of the Red Keep stood large and heavy as they slowly opened. Princess Rhaenyra led the group as this was her former home. Rhaella trailed far behind her sisters and cousins, taking in her surroundings.

The matter of succession regarding the Driftmark throne would be decided, or rather, defended today. Rhaella found the whole thing quite pointless. Her grandsire, Coryls Velaryon had already established that Lucerys would inherit the throne. The calling of an audience was nothing more than a power play on Alicent and Ottos' part.

Otto. Hand of the King.

Master of deception, Rhaella preferred to call him. His influence was so blatant in the castle, that it's a wonder how the king manages it anymore.

"You all may explore if you wish." Rhaenyra called out to them. Her fingers fiddled with the rings on her hands. Anxiously. Rhaella noted.

"Don't stray far," Daemon added. "The meeting will take place momentarily."

Opting to follow Jace and Luc, the three venture outside to the courtyards. Rhaella slightly hikes up the dark purple fabrics of her dress as she avoids muddy puddles. The clashing of swords could be heard up ahead.

"Everyone is staring at us," Lucerys says. Unease was laced in his voice.

'Rumors travel fast here.' Rhaella observed. She thought it was plain as day that the two brothers were bastards. They lacked the white hair and looked too similar to a certain deceased knight.

"They're staring at you." Rhaella corrected teasingly. Jace flashed her an unamused grimace.

"It doesn't matter what they think," Jace said. He sped up his pace, walking towards a crowd circle. Rhaella locked arms with Luc as they followed after Jace.

Pushing past crowds of people, they saw Ser Criston Cole engaging in a sword sparring match with Aemond Targaryen. Rhaella felt herself stop. She turned to Jace who was already laser-focused on the sparring.

Aemond's long, white hair flowed like water as the dodged the opposing sword.

He had changed. Taller,self-assured, and most notably of all, a black leather eyepatch covered his left eye.Rhaella felt Luc grip the sleeve of her dress. Anxious, just like his mother.

"Well done, my prince." Criston Cole congratulated. "Soon you'll be winning tourneys."

" I don't give a shit about tourneys," Aemond stated. He flipped his sword in a show-off fashion.

Rhaella rolled her eyes at that. So different yet the same.

"Nephews." Aemond finally addresses the two boys. " Have you come to train?"

Rhaella crossed her arms, gauging the brothers' reactions. Jace sported a stern face while Luc's brow was heavily furrowed.Then. Aemond shifts his gaze towards her. He had an unreadable expression as he sheathed his

sword. Rhaella's eyes didn't dare break from his, her fingers fiddling with each other.

They hadn't seen each other in years. Rhaella made no attempt to reach out either. And why should she? Aemond never did. Fond memories of their time together hit her in waves.

Regaining her composure, she offered him a small smile, but Aemond did not return it. Staring at her one last time, he walks off, leaving her in the crowd.

Rhaella felt another tug on her arm, Lucerys urging her to follow him. He gave her a worried glance. She mentally scolded herself for her brief vulnerability.

"Rhaella we're already late as is," Jace said. The three made their way to the great hall. Among

the masses of people, Rhaella spotted Baela standing by their grandmother, Rhaenys.

Rhaella couldn't help but be jealous at the closeness the two had, between the three sisters, it was said that Baela was the most like their mother.

'Not enough of her mother and too much of her father.' The whispers of other highborn folks rang in her brain. Making her way through the crowd, she passed by Rhaena, brushing her arm in greeting. Rhaella settled by her father, who turned to briefly acknowledge her.

At the head of it all, stood Queen Alicent Hightower and her father Otto. Rhaella felt her numbness turn into boiling excitement. This entire farce was sure to turn entertaining and she could not wait to observe.

Rhaella found her eyes wandering, boredom already setting in. Her gaze settled on Aegon, who seemed disinterested at the whole situation.

"Let us begin," Alicent spoke. The crowd fell into a hush. The air was thick with tension at the issue of the Driftmark succession. Rhaella watched as Rhaenyra took command, reiterating that it was Luc's claim.

Rhaella admired her stepmother's conviction. She found it interesting how far one was willing to stretch the truth for their benefit.

"If you wish to see the blood of a true Velaryon heir, cut me." A voice bellowed, cutting Rhaenyra off. All attention turned towards Vaemond Velaryon.

His statement was rather damming in Rhaella's opinion, she wondered how Rhaenyra would refute it.

During Rhaenyra and Vaemond's back-and-forth, Rhaella caught the eye of Aemond, who seemed rather focused on her, his expression was that of a vague hunger.

A hunger for what? Rhaella was unsure but she refused to give him the satisfaction of being fed. Her face wore a blank expression. Whatever Aemond was looking for, he wouldn't find it with her.

The exchange was not so discreet, however. Otto's attention briefly moved to Rhaella and Aemond, it seemed to him as though they were communicating without words.

The doors of the great hall opened, halting all conversations. Rhaella forced herself to rip her eyes away from Aemond and towards the point of commotion.

King Viserys' haggard form slowly makes his way to his throne. His crown was tilted on his head and half of his face was covered by a gold mask.

Rhaella felt Rhaena pull her back slightly.

"What could he possibly be trying to do here?" Rhaena whispered to Rhaella.

The two sisters watched as their father helped his brother to his throne, placing the crown on his head."He's come to defend the heir to the Iron Throne," Rhaella whispers back.

'No amount of deception could keep blood from defending blood.' Rhaella noted. And she hoped that blood would be enough to draw all this to a close.

King Viserys sits on his throne. Rhaella relished the shell-shocked expression on Otto's face. Clearly, he did not account for this.

"Her children are bastards!" Vaemond spits out. His accusation hung in the air. King Viserys' wobbly hand drew a blade, an attempt to put an end to Vaemond's recklessness.

A swift slash rang out in the air, causing a silent horror to fall onto the Lords in the room. Daemon had cut Vaemond down with Dark Sister, a sword previously held by Visynea Targaryen, and the object of Rhaella's desire."He can keep his tongue," Daemon said, drawing the sword back into its sheath

As the head rolled , it thudded harshly onto the cold floor.

Rhaella fought to suppress a smile, lips twitching at the abruptness of Vaemond's death, her

violet eyes flitting up to her father in awe.

That's what she longed for most of all, wield the power to demand respect without being questioned. Something a man could do without thinking, whereas a woman would be shamed for it.

As an attempt to move the situation along, Rhaella's grandmother Rhaenys stepped forward to speak. "My husband Corlys has since confirmed that Lucerys will succeed the Driftmark throne," Rhaenys said.

"And," Rhaenys added, "Princess Rhaenyra has suggested that Baela and Rhaena should be betrothed to Jacaerys and Lucerys, a proposal that I am happy to support."

Rhaella watched Baela and Jacaerys exchange smiles. She was happy for her sisters in earnest however, she could feel something brewing within her.

Jealously? Not possible. Rhaella never retained any desire to be married to anyone. She would rather fling herself from one of the cliffs on Dragonstone.

The emotion was something akin to envy, she figured. Rhaella had since grown used to not being considered. It was the same pang she felt when Baela's dragon, Moondancer hatched. Rhaella could recall watching her sister cradle the baby dragon in her hands, its pale green scales had a shimmer to them.

Yes. Envy. Rhaella smiled anyhow, giving Rhaena's hand a squeeze of support.

"This arrangement is satisfactory, yes, but what of Lady Rhaella?" Otto asked.

At the sound of her name, Rhaella's eyes snapped to Ottos. He was prodding her, bordering provoking, of this she was sure.

To her relief, Rhaeynra spoke up, shifting the uncomfortable attention away from Rhaella.

"What of her?" Rhaenyra said. Her tone was quite guarded.

"Well, a lady of her status would no doubt benefit from a proper match" Otto ventured. Rhaenyra glanced at Rhaella who avoided her gaze. She hoped that the Gods would be gracious enough to allow her to disappear.

"It sounds as though you have a proposition, my lord," Rhaenyra said.

Rhaella saw Otto's eyes flicker to Aemond and then back to Rhaenyra.

Rhaella was a girl who thought of herself as rather astute and she rarely missed any detail. But Otto Hightower, with age and experience on his side, was rather shrewd. Rhaella could do nothing but watch in nausea as she was actively being used as a pawn

"A marriage to Prince Aemond would surely be befitting, and it would bind all of us together, would it not?" He said.

Aemond and Rhaella share a brief look, confusion evident on both of their faces.Before Rhaenyra could counter, Daemon cut in. He would not allow his youngest daughter to be thrown to vipers.

"I'd sooner send her off to be a septa than bind her any man with Hightower blood." Daemon spat out.

Oh her dear father, ever so thoughtful with his words. Obviously, the comment caused The Queen Alicent to flinch, but no further words were spoken on this matter.

The answer was quite clear.

Septa's are pious women of the faith of the seven. Sworn to celibacy and lived to teach. They were multiple things that Rhaella was in fact, not.

She and Aemond married. Rhaella was unsure what she felt about that. It's true she harbored some warmth for him, nostalgia from their childhood.

However, the Aemond that stood before her was a stranger. One she was hesitant to allow herself to know.