The spider was met with enthusiasm.

Rhysaenya presented Helaena with the gift the following morning. The castle had been quiet– it was not at all what she had expected given what her parents told her the day before. She'd hardly been able to sleep, tossing and turning and thinking about Aegon, about Aemond, about Aegon again.

She presumed there would be noise, whispers, some rumor already floating that she was to marry one of the princes. But naught was being said. Perhaps her parents weren't ready to reveal that plan to the rest of the world. What, then, were they doing here? Deliberating how else they might make her life miserable? How else they might bring pressure rising into her head and leaving her to wish that nine years was all she'd ever live?

Being beside Helaena didn't ease Rhysaenya as she thought it would. She hoped Helaena would spout sudden wisdom and solve her dilemma, somehow tell her if she should indulge her parents or plot to run away on Skyfall. She hoped to forget it entirely, watching Helaena move the spider into a large box filled with plants and other friends just like it. Neither happened.

She hadn't found a solution in her own dreams, either, though most of the night had been more nightmares than anything. She almost lamented not having the visions that Helaena did— why did only she get to see the future? Rhysaenya wanted to know what would become of her mother's strange beliefs, of her and Aegon— if there would be a her and Aegon. It was certainly strange to imagine they might one day be married, intentionally or not. The way he'd behaved the day prior had been... something else.

"How does that feel?" asked Karrhys, tilting his head as Rhysaenya held Backbiter, turning it over in her palms and determining how best to hold it. It was harder than cupping a spider in her palms, though it had wiggled and tried to scurried away. "Can you handle the weight of it?"

"I think so," she said, practicing a swing. She nearly knocked herself over, her little body flying forward with the movement of the sword. She would've fallen onto it if Karrhys hadn't caught her shoulder, keeping her from hitting the ground. "Shouldn't I be using a sparring sword?"

"No child of mine has ever learned using a sparring sword," said Karrhys matter-of-factly. As if she should know this, as if she was being treated the same as his sons. She wondered if he'd trained Moyric like this, or if he'd been warmer with the boy made with whoever his Driftmark lover had been. "They learn with the real thing or nothing at all. By week's end, we'll know if you're a good fit for the sword."

Rhysaenya wondered what would happen if she wasn't. What came at the week's end? Why were her parents staying so long? She could not be left to think about it– he seemed to know it was turning in her mind. Karrhys beckoned her towards him, "Go on. Try to strike me."

She made several pathetic attempts at swinging, constantly about to lose her footing and topple over. Karrhys dodged easily, rolling on the balls of his feet. Rhysaenya huffed in frustration, tossing the sword to the floor the moment she saw Aegon and Aemond approaching. This was too embarrassing for them to witness– Aegon would tease her and it would make her angry. "My arms hurt," she complained. "I need rest."

Karrhys's cruel gaze followed her as she went to sit by a rack of weapons, clearly disappointed that she simply gave up. But he maintained his composure in front of the young princes. "Come, boys. Let us see what you can do."

He scooped up Backbiter as the boys drew their sparring swords. "Against that?" said Aegon in disbelief. "Ser Criston uses a sparring sword against us."

"Afraid I'll cut your sword in two?" asked Karrhys. It wasn't mocking, but it wasn't as playful as it should have sounded either. "I know how to wield a sword well enough that I won't even splinter your little stick. You need to be prepared to fight men with whatever you have at your disposal, sparring sword or not. This will get you used to the force. Go on, both of you. Show me what you've learned."

Rhysaenya cupped her face boredly as she watched them, wishing she was in the castle with Helaena. Aegon and Aemond began trying to attack Karrhys, who leisurely knocked their blades aside, appearing so amused that he almost seemed human. In her own search for fun, she turned to the rack behind her and picked up a spear, beginning to examine the blade and testing if she could spin it.

"Your defense will leave you to harm, Aegon," chided Karrhys. "Be lighter on your feet and anticipate. Aemond, you're far too stiff. Let the sword be an extension of you. Again, boys."

Aegon was faring poorly. Aemond, however, seemed more than capable of implementing the advice given, and within seconds had modified his stance. Karrhys smirked, and Rhysaenya wondered if her brothers had ever heard their father say he was proud of them. Was there any pride in him at all for another person, or did it all go to him?

In watching them, Rhysaenya let the spear fall against her shoulder and let out a weak grunt of pain– why was every weapon so heavy? Aegon got distracted at the sight of her and began to laugh, saying to his brother, "That reminds me of you every time you try to claim a dragon, Aemond!"

"Shut up, Aegon!" snapped Rhysaenya, lifting the spear again. "You hardly know your histories— I don't think you ought to be criticizing anyone about anything."

"Rhysaenya," warned Karrhys, eyes ablaze with anger. She knew she was not learning her lesson in holding her tongue, but how could she be expected to when he acted like that? "Apologize to your Prince."

She huffed stubbornly, "I don't want to apologize! He can apologize to Aemond!"

"Listen to your father, Lady Rhysaenya," said Aegon with that annoying smirk. "I am your Prince."

Angrily, she ran at him, slamming the spear's shaft against his chest and knocking him to the floor. In one swift move, she cut the spear sideways through the air and tucked the blade under his chin. She didn't get to scream to him that he was Prince of mud and grime, her father yanking her off and striking her in one swift move without a care who witnessed it.

"Behave yourself," he threatened lowly. With the boys, he spoke in a softer tone, "Forgive me, my Princes."

"Come on, Aegon," said Aemond, seemingly annoyed that his brother ruined their lesson. "We have to go to the Dragonpit now. Thank you for your instruction, Lord Karrhys."

The moment they were gone, Karrhys let go of Rhysaenya, and shoved the spear back into her hands. "You wish to use that to hurt men?" he sneered, leveling Backbiter. "Do it, then."

Rhysaenya's arms shook– did he mean what he thought she meant? She with a spear she could hardly hold against him and the notorious Backbiter? "But— but I can't—"

His eyes were wild, full of challenge. "You were about to. Do it. Do it. Do it." When she still did not move, he lowered himself to shout in her face, "Do it! Do it, do it!" She flinched at last, eyes watering. "Don't tell me you're afraid now. Where is the anger you just had? The anger you directed at the Prince?"

Wanting him to stop yelling, Rhysaenya swung the spear. Her father caught it with his blade and shoved her off. "Again," he demanded. "Do not let me see your move before you make it."

She swung again. He caught it once more, but this time with his hand. He used it to yank her closer, nearly making her face collide with Backbiter's blade. "No natural skill, it seems," said Karrhys coldly as he glared down at her. "Gods, you have the blood of the Rogue Prince in your veins and that of a thousand Ignividosi warriors and yet you still possess no inherent talent? Even your brothers were better warriors at a younger age."

She hated that he drew that comparison. She hated that he compared her to boys she never knew, to siblings who had had the luxury of being trained since they could walk, who had known who they were from the start while she was living a lie. How could they expect her to be a warrior when they had never shown her how? Why were all these expectations raised with no foundation whatsoever?

She swung. Again. Again. Her arms ached and soon she could no longer stand. She fell holding the spear straight up, tears sparkling in her eyes as her father pressed down with his sword, ready to saw the shaft in half. She gripped it for dear life and pushed upwards until at last he stepped back.

"I think you are better suited for a spear," said Karrhys, yanking her to her feet. "A pity, then, that Eilryd won't be of much use to you here. We'll think of who we bring as your teacher. Perhaps Arrwyth will be willing, or even your mother. Your assessment is complete. But you have made a fool of yourself... perhaps tomorrow you will do your duty and mount Skyfall."

She cried her eyes out in frustration when she finally returned to her chambers, her ladies-in-waiting helping her bathe but none daring to ask questions about why she was crying. Her mother arrived with a bowl of grapes and shooed the girls away, bringing with her a large book with a faded and chipped black cover. Rhysaenya wished she could disappear as her mother opened it and began reading aloud about magic and poisons– all things she knew she would be expected to memorize.

This particular chapter spoke of poison as another element in combat for women especially, wherein they could dip their blades into the poison to further weaken their enemy. Rhaelyn made sure to note that this was still considered shameful for them– they ought to be warriors who did not have need for poison. Rhysaenya did not know how she was ever going to be expected to fight and kill a man the size of Karrhys without using poison.

Later that day, Helaena informed her that Aemond was upset about a prank pulled by Aegon, Jacaerys, and Lucerys in the Dragonpit. Already upset by Jacaerys claiming Vermax officially, Aemond had been hopeful when the boys claimed they found a dragon for him. They presented him with a pig they dubbed 'The Pink Dread.' He'd nearly gotten himself killed getting too close to the other dragons, having upset Dreamfyre.

Helaena and Rhysaenya both knew Aegon had been the mastermind behind it, though he tried to pawn the blame off on Jacaerys and Lucerys. After ensuring Helaena was happily settled with the spider for the remainder of the day, Rhysaenya excused herself early and went looking for Aemond before he reached the yard for his afternoon sword lesson.

He was exiting his chambers as she approached, offering a weak smile, "Aemond," she said. "Where are you off to?"

"Anywhere," he muttered. "As far into the castle as I can, where Aegon won't find me. Why?"

"I wanted to see how you were after... well, I heard about the pig."

Aemond made a face, though she wagered it wasn't directed at her. "At this rate, I'll never have a dragon. It's not fair." He lowered his voice, "Lī nospri ēdas drōma exclut naejot zirȳ, fusc ōghar se mirre, nyke jiōragon daorun." (T: Those bastards had eggs hatch to them, brown hair and all, yet I receive nothing.)

She pursed her lips, choosing not to speak about Rhaenyra's sons at all. It wasn't for her to say anything, it wasn't for her to judge, not when she knew now the truth of her own birth– and that of her mother's. "Daor tolvys iksis sgni naejot emagon iā drōmon exclus naejot zirȳ. Tolie issi orfi se ēdruta jikagon rȳ se iderenne hen nedis iā zaldrīzes. Aōha kepa isde Balerion, se bona drōmon ēdas bōsa pār exclus, ēdas ziry daor?" (T: Not everyone is meant to have an egg hatched to them. Others are mightier and must go through the trial of claiming a dragon. Your father claimed Balerion, and that egg had long since hatched, had it not?)

He shrugged. "Se icong issi isse Zaldrīzesdōron. Eman daor ñuhoso hen qest konīr." (T: The unclaimed are on Dragonstone. I have no way of getting there.)

Rhysaenya posed, "Skyfall kostagon sella lanta lēda otim. Istin nyke qae se mai naejot mons zirȳla, kostan gūrogon ao." (T: Skyfall can saddle two with ease. Once I gain the courage to mount her, I can take you.)

He stopped in his tracks, turning himself to face her and furrowing his eyebrows, as if in disbelief. "And why would you do that?" he questioned.

"Because you want a dragon," she replied simply. "That's the easiest way to get one."

"Why would I matter enough to you for that?"

"You are Helaena's brother. You are kind. I do oft defend you, in case you haven't noticed. I don't feel I deserved a dragon... the least I can do with it is give you one of your own."

He narrowed his eyes. "Skorkydoso gaomagon ao jiōragon iā zaldrīzes skori ao jaelagon mēre? Skori aōha avia iksin se Valyrīha mēre? Aōha muña poes emagon peita zirȳla." (T: How did you get a dragon when you didn't want one? When your grandmother was the Valyrian one? Your mother could have claimed her.)

Rhysaenya tried to answer carefully, "Ñuha avis... sȳrī, ñuha patyses ere ñuha muña lēda se bona ziry vtin inve trilat lo brōstan blice iā nādrēsy hen Targārien Lentor. Skori īlen āzma, ziry emagon iā iderennon. Emi olvie Valyrīha ānogar yn sia dōrī zaldrize, olvie gōntan īlon jurnegon hae gaomā mirre se Tarths se Reach māzigon ābrar qilōni ezīmagon īlva qogron hen iā mijegon. Rȳ pār ziry se istin īles iā. Istin ñuha lēkia ōregon se Phoenixfort hen zirȳla." (T: My grandparents... well, my father's parents, they raised my mother with the idea that she would find trouble if named publicly a bastard of House Targaryen. When I was born, she didn't have a choice. We have much Valyrian blood but were never dragonlords, much less when we were forced to marry Tarths and Reach girls because of our lack of daughters. At least my mother faced less scrutiny as an adult. By then my brother could inherit the Phoenixfort regardless of her influence.)

She imagined her mother claiming a dragon, but it did not bring her comfort. She didn't think she should ever be given one. Knowing her, she would want the Cannibal. "Ondoso pār, īles tolī uēpa naejot iā zaldrīzes se ziry gōntan daor jaelagon syt mēre. Ziry emagon casim triblat. Aōha kepa nyke iā zaldrīzes kesrio syt nyke naejot, kesrio syt ñuha nyke... īles sȳz kesrio syt īlen iā riña." (T: By then, she was too old to claim a dragon and she did not want for one. It would have caused trouble. Your father allowed me a dragon because he'd taken me to ward, because my features suggested I could... he was kind because I was a child.)

He didn't seem to fully believe her. She didn't know what else to say. How could she hide the truth if he asked her a direct question? She didn't believe she was good at lying. She didn't want to lie, not to him, it wasn't fair. But she hoped he would not ask, hoped he would not put her in a position to embarrass herself and feel even worse about how her parents were treating her because of what she was.

Thankfully, Aemond changed the subject, "Do you wish to be a great warrior like your father and brothers? It is said they are stronger than even the greatest Targaryen warrior. Stronger than Prince Daemon."

"I'd like to be able to protect myself," she reasoned. "My father thinks I am good with spears. But my arms ache after today."

"Did he punish you for threatening Aegon?"

Rhysaenya looked away. "He kept training me."

"Why do you always defend me? Even when it causes you trouble?"

"Because no one deserves the things he says to you. He makes me so angry. No one stands up to him, no one. I know I'm not supposed to hit him... my parents have scolded me for fighting... but I cannot help it. I simply get angry and I can't stop myself."

"That happens to me sometimes," said Aemond. "I don't know why, it simply does. You and I are more alike than I knew. I imagine if you had been in the Dragonpit, you'd have made the pig bite Aegon's arse."

She managed a giggle, "I would have certainly tried it." Gods, she could not believe she might have to marry Aegon. She imagined it would be nicer to marry Aemond, if it was necessary to choose one or the other. Would she ever have a choice? She thought perhaps not, her parents would want her to marry the closest heir, and that was not Aemond. Though, the way they spoke of it all might have implied they'd choose one over the other as the years went on... there was still hope. "Well, I won't keep you here. I'm glad you're alright now."

She let him walk on his own after excusing herself. She didn't understand him, or Aegon, or what Aegon said when he insinuated Aemond liked her. It didn't feel that way. Yet, she admitted it had been nice to speak to him in High Valyrian when Aegon had failed to carry the conversation. Although others around the castle understood it, it felt like their own private little game. A special moment no one could take from them.

She dined with only Helaena that evening, a fight having happened in the yard. Ser Harwin Strong had apparently beaten into Ser Criston Cole for insinuating Rhaenyra's sons were his, and the boys had been kept away from each other for the remainder of the day. Both girls were happier for it— Helaena's brothers were constantly talking while scarfing down food.

All her parents could talk about the following morning was this fight– and for whatever reason, their visit was cut short. The following morning, rather than escort her to the Dragonpit to mount Skyfall, her father put her to work with the spear again, and told her that he and her mother were leaving that afternoon. Perhaps the news was what thrilled her enough to manage a good smack on his shoulder with the spear, a small improvement he seemed to take note of.

"Remember what we've told you, my girl," said Karrhys as they said goodbye, he and Rhaelyn prepared to ride back to the docks as the sun held its highest point in the sky. "Work on that temper, that spear, and do what you must to preserve our family. Learn to ride your dragon and befriend Aegon. It seems you've done well enough on Aemond... he has asked about your whereabouts each time we practiced swords alone, he and I. He's going to turn out quite the warrior. Nearly better than your brothers were at his age."

Rhysaenya nodded silently, letting her mother kiss her cheek. "Heed your books as well, little one," said Rhaelyn, cupping her face. "You will be a brilliant Queen. Embrace this truth. Embrace the bright future you will bring our family."

"Yes, Mother," she murmured, finding the warmth odd– it was performative, always when eyes were watching. She was not like that when they were alone– it made Rhysaenya uncomfortable to know the truth of her, of everything. "I will see you all again..." She wished to say 'in a year,' but decided not to give them this timeline. She worried they'd be coming back much sooner.

"Yes, you will," said Karrhys, lips curling malevolently as he put an arm around Rhaelyn and escorted her out.

For all their faults, Rhysaenya wondered whether they were clever for all they were doing. She wondered if she would like being Queen. Having a dragon forever, having children who could claim dragons, using her spear in a moment of danger. It didn't sound so bad, though, not entirely right, either.

She didn't feel as though she shared her family's ambition, though their curiosity still lived in her. Their anger as well. She wondered if she was always angry at everyone because her parents always seemed angry with her. Was it possible for that to happen? Would her anger go away if she knew she never again had to see her parents?

Rhysaenya tried to promise herself not to be so negative. To try her hardest not to get mad at Aegon. If it was the bare minimum she had to do to keep her family alive, she supposed it was simple enough. It would probably make Helaena happier knowing Rhysaenya didn't smack her brother every chance she got.

The moment her parents were gone, she went back to thinking about dinner with Helaena's family and nearly felt sick to her stomach. What if she couldn't contain her anger in front of the Queen, who surely already knew Aegon kept getting beat by a little girl he refused to hit back?

She worried as well about the mood of everyone there. Helaena had heard a handmaiden whispering about a supposed proposal made by Princess Rhaenyra that had not been taken well by the Queen, something about wedding her to Jacaerys. Helaena didn't mind the idea of it, what she minded was the concept of marriage, which neither girl was interested in at the moment.

Rhysaenya thought it a sweet thing, but she knew her mother and father would think as Queen Alicent did. She'd find Rhaenyra's motives suspicious and refuse to accept such a truce— she'd see it an act of desperation. She hoped Aemond could claim a dragon soon so this obsession could cease. She hoped someone could tell Rhaenyra a way to explain her dark-haired sons the way her mother had explained Rhysaenya's pale hair.

She made for the Dragonpit in the early afternoon, having left Helaena to measure her beetles' growth alone. Rhysaenya had been given one of Princess Rhaenyra's old dragonrider dresses to wear, a firm grey frock with comfortable trousers beneath the skirt that bore two slits on each side. Her handmaiden had braided Rhysaenya's hair to keep it out of her face, insisting this style had helped Rhaenyra greatly when she learned to ride as a little girl.

She rubbed the sleeves of the dress, a pattern of dragon scales on her shoulders and neck. It felt itchier the closer she got to the pit. The Dragonkeepers were delighted to see her ready to attempt riding Skyfall, but with each step, Rhysaenya grew more afraid that sickness would overtake her before she reached the sky.

The Dragonkeepers led her to where Skyfall waited in her pit, trilling happily at the sight of Rhysaenya. She smiled weakly, calling, "Dohaerās, Skyfall. Demās. Embrot." (T: Serve, Skyfall. Sit. Down.)

The dragon wiggled enthusiastically, much like a dog, and lowered herself fully to the ground. One of the Dragonkeepers chuckled, "Issa hae amcissim hae Silverwing." (T: She is as friendly as Silverwing.)

Rhysaenya drew nearer, placing her bare palms on either side of Skyfall's nostrils, arms extended as wide as they'd go. She lowered herself down, resting her face against the crest of the dragon's nose. She purred happily, emitting a series of clicks as if to encourage Rhysaenya to keep doing this.

"Gevī," praised Rhysaenya gently. "Dokimarvose: naejot māzīs, jās sīr kostan mons ao." (T: Good. Focus: come forward, move so I can mount you.)

Skyfall slithered further out of her pit, turning her body sideways and extending her wing out. The folds seemed to form stairs for her to step on, horns allowing her to hold on as she slowly climbed up, settling herself in the saddle. She planted her feet down in the stirrups, sliding a chain across the seat to secure herself in. She grabbed hold of the handles, urging for patience when Skyfall began to wiggle in anticipation, "Daor, umbās, Skyfall. Paerī, iōrās." (T: No, wait, Skyfall. Slowly, stand.)

Skyfall got to her feet, spreading her wings and tilting her head up to the gap in the stony ceiling, large enough for her to fly through. Rhysaenya drew a deep breath. "Hegnīr riña. Sōvēs!" (T: Good girl. Fly!)

She bit back a shriek as Skyfall surged up, roaring triumphantly and extending her wings fully once they were in the skies. Rhysaenya's teeth chattered as cold air hit her face, "Vēzot, paerī— paerī!" (T: Up, slowly— slowly!)

Skyfall chirped again, perhaps in protest, but slowed her ascent, leveling out once they reached the clouds. Rhysaenya drew several deep breaths, letting the dragon go where she pleased. Skyfall began to play a little game, flying down as they neared the castle then up again when they were flying over the city. With each passing minute, Rhysaenya felt more comfortable, sighing in relief and becoming more comfortable with guiding Skyfall in random loops over King's Landing. At last, once she felt herself starting to grow thirsty, she called for Skyfall to return, "Nopot, Skyfall. Embrot, riña." (T: To the pit, Skyfall. Down, girl.)

As they neared the entrance of the pit, Rhysaenya commanded, "Ninkiot." Skyfall landed smoothly, the Dragonkeepers waiting for Rhysaenya to dismount before pushing forward a large water basin on the back of a cart. Rhysaenya beckoned, "Iēdrot," and the dragon drank. (T: Land. Drink.)

Skyfall purred again, shuffling herself back into the pit once she'd had her fill. Rhysaenya smiled to herself, mounting the carriage and asking she be taken back to the castle. Once she'd bathed, she found herself feeling less afraid of what dinner might bring. She felt ready to face both Aegon and Aemond, to decide what conversations happened and how long they continued.

Once evening fell, Rhysaenya walked with Helaena to their dining room, a feast already laid out. She sat beside her friend, the Princes arriving minutes later followed by an exhausted-looking Queen.

"We thank the Seven for the food we are about to receive," said Alicent, guiding them in prayer, "and we ask them to bless those who have taken the time to prepare it. We ask the Mother to protect us, that the Warrior and Smith fill the King with strength tonight as his aches continue, that the Maiden watches over these two young girls—" She smiled at Helaena and Rhysaenya, "that the Crone brings us wisdom, that the Father carries out a rightful justice against those who would harm us, and that the Stranger leaves us in peace."

The children got to eating once she did. Rhysaenya was quiet at first, mimicking Helaena. Then, Alicent asked, "Rhysaenya, I'm told you mounted Skyfall today. Did you enjoy it?"

She tried for a polite smile and nodded. "Yes, it was very enjoyable. Skyfall is a good dragon." She glanced at Aemond, who seemed delighted to hear this.

"I'm sure your parents will be pleased to hear of it," said Alicent. "They will be proud."

"I hope so, Your Grace," said Rhysaenya, wondering if her father would be less abrasive the next time they met if she kept doing what he expected her to.

Alicent cleared her throat, "There is something you must all hear. The Princess Rhaenyra has decided to take her family to Dragonstone. I imagine they'll leave by week's end. There may be some changes in the castle because of this... less handmaidens, septas, maesters, and knights around our floor. This does not mean you will all be free to participate in mischief."

"Never, Mother," said Aemond, though the gleeful look in his eyes suggested he was glad for Jacaerys and Lucerys to be gone. Less of a reminder of what he didn't yet have. Rhysaenya wasn't sure that this was a good thing for Rhaenyra to do.

"Will Father finally join our dinners?" asked Aegon, glancing at his empty seat. He sounded so excited– she'd never heard him like that.

"Your Father will join us when he feels well for it," said Alicent with a tight smile. "His head ached today, and he could not bring himself to come downstairs."

Rhysaenya noticed Aegon's disappointment, more tangible than whatever Helaena or Aemond felt on the matter. She supposed both of them had Alicent's approval and did not want for Viserys's. Aegon, on the other hand, seemed to still need someone to make him feel as though he was doing something right. Yes, this being open-minded thing was somewhat working now that she tried imagining Aegon as a boy with parents like hers.

Aegon turned to Rhysaenya. "I did some reading on your family's history after our little talk. Ignividosi names are strange."

"Aegon," warned Alicent, as if he was going to say something cruel.

"They are strange," agreed Rhysaenya carefully, wondering if he'd start to tease. "They were never truly Valyrian. They changed once they arrived here and had the influence of First Men, Andals, and other surviving Valyrians."

"Why were you named Rhysaenya?"

"My grandfather's name was Rhys and he was raised by his aunt, Kaesenya Ignividus. My mother wished to honor both of them. My grandmother, Kaelena, had a beautiful name but my mother thought it would be too similar to Helaena."

"We'd burn together otherwise," said Helaena pensively before going back to her meal as if she hadn't said anything at all.

Aegon made a face of confusion, then brushed it off, "What would our names be, if we were Ignividosi?"

"Well, you're named for the conqueror. The most famous Ignividus is Agratzli, who came here first. Then Aniiro, eldest son during the Conquest. Both are considered our greatest warriors. You'd probably be named for one of them."

"What about Aemond?" He smirked, as if to embarrass his brother. Aemond simply made a face and kept eating. Alicent's eyes kept flickering between the boys, seemingly expecting one to snap at the other.

She was thinking she could retort that Aemond would be deserving of a better name than Aegon. Restraining herself, she said. "Aemond is named after..." She hesitated, "Your Uncle Daemon. Daeron seems to be named for him, too. I don't know who our historical equivalent of Daemon is. Actually, when I think of it, your father also had a brother named Aegon who died as a babe. Perhaps there is no real comparison."

"Think of whoever is the most unsettling Ignividosi," prompted Aegon. "That'd be Daemon. If I had to pick a person for him, I'd pick Caytell. He frequented brothels about as much as my uncle frequented the Street of Silk."

The irony of it was so ridiculous, Rhysaenya had to stifle a laugh into her palms as Alicent commanded Aegon not to speak of this further. Aemond seemed to be trying to hold back a laugh, too, while Helaena stared at the ceiling mumbling something about a boy playing with rats.

When she uncovered her face, composing herself, she saw Aegon still smirking in her direction, as if to incite laughter again. It was absurd, yet she enjoyed it, because for once Aegon wasn't being a frustrating cunt. She tried to concentrate on her meal, but a singular thought kept in her mind. Perhaps Aegon wasn't all that bad. She certainly wondered how funny he was when his mother wasn't around. When Aemond wasn't around. When he didn't give her reasons to want to silence him.

She decided she would give into this idea of friendliness. She'd try harder to get to know Aegon, who may not be so bad. If her parents intended to marry her to him regardless of her choice, she might as well come to enjoy his company. Perhaps teach him a thing or two about history or the Valyrian language.

As for Aemond, who kept his eyes on her as she fought back a smile, she decided she'd try harder to be a better friend to him, too. He was kind and good with his sword and if she might marry him instead of Aegon, she wanted to feel comfortable with it.

As much as Rhysaenya disliked her parents' attitudes, she had to admit they'd given her much to think about and even more to add to her agenda.