Her lessons began at dawn.

She'd been asleep peacefully, tired after being at sea for almost a week. She'd been kept up late the night before, receiving a tour of the castle from Arrwyth– during which Eilryd and Bea Tarth had been making love so loudly that Rhysaenya thought someone was dying.

She had to admit, the castle was impressive. High ceilings everywhere, stone walls filled with paintings of their history, artifacts lining the long halls and tapestries depicting their most important feats. The Throne of Agni was another thing in its entirety up close. The Iron Throne almost paled in comparison to its vibrant coloring. In the right torchlight, it looked to flicker like fire as all the stones danced together.

Karrhys had let her sit on it, and by all the gods did the world look different atop a throne. Her family had looked so small, so simple when she sat elevated and surrounded by such richness. The domed top of the throne as the fire wrapped around it made her feel like a predator hiding in a cave, ready to pounce. It was no wonder that they called Lords of the Phoenixfort 'Keepers of the Throne of Agni.' This was something to be kept safe and sound, only deserved by the most powerful of their house.

It was an incredible exaggeration to have sent the phoenix to her room to start a fire and wake her for training, however. Her nose had twitched her up, and she'd panicked when she saw the bird sitting on the windowsill with its tail aflame against the curtains. She hadn't even known what to do– screaming was not an option. She wanted to drench it in water, but surely that would irritate the phoenix. She didn't like the idea of seeing it sopping wet and sad again.

"Stop it!" she said sharply, hoping it would understand her. "Take that fire back, now, you'll ruin my quarters!"

He stared at her and squawked, spreading his wings and making the flames leap onto the next set of curtains. His aim must have been to rob her of that which could conceal natural light– she'd wake early each day without the curtains. Angrily, she got out of the bed and grabbed the curtains herself, ripping them away from the windows and tossing them into a pile on the floor. The flames did not bother her in the slightest.

Annoyed or perhaps satisfied, the phoenix leapt from the windowsill to the pile, curling up over it as though it were a nest. The flames gathered together all at once, then vanished. Rhysaenya glared at it, wishing to call it all sorts of vile things. But, she suspected its behavior came from her father's orders.

She readied herself as she had each day she'd trained with Ser Criston, save for having to braid her own hair now. She shuffled down to the yard in her old armor, finding several of those mute Ignividosi soldiers standing around the perimeter, watching and waiting. She was alone in the center of them for only a minute before she heard footsteps on the stone corridor. When she turned, it was not her father who was there, but her mother.

It was the first time she'd ever seen her mother in armor. To maintain appearances, Rhaelyn always kept to lavish dresses that had other ladies in the Realm wishing they were Ignividosi, too. Today, however, her mother looked ready for battle. Her breastplate was etched with a large phoenix, wings leaping up to the pauldrons that covered her shoulders. Down the greaves on her legs were the patterns of dragon scales, honoring both her houses. In her hands, a wickedly sharp-looking spear whose shaft glowed molten red.

"I thought Father would be here," she said awkwardly, still unarmed. Her mother's gaze was not warm in the slightest as she beckoned one of the soldiers to hand Rhysaenya his spear. It was much larger than what she was used to, but the weight of it no longer bothered her after three weeks of tossing around flour.

"Your father does not know how to use a spear the way I can," she told her. "He was always better suited to swords. It is why I came to respect him in the first place." Rhysaenya noticed the word was respect, not admire or like or love. "Do you wish you'd a different instructor?"

She shook her head, so as to not insult her. She'd never actually seen or heard anything about her mother's skill. All she knew was that she could fight and kill as any other Ignividus had in their history. "I want to learn from you. I want to learn from a woman." It was the truth; nothing Arrwyth or Karrhys taught her would prepare her to use her lesser strength against men.

Rhaelyn's lips curled upward. "Good. What they will teach you will go beyond what you will learn from me. You will learn about the women of House Ignividus... and how each of them became a warrior."

She lectured her while she beat into her, which was at least preferable to Karrhys's snarling. The first lesson was on learning to read warriors, learning to anticipate their moves. She told her about Elisii Lavasy, wife of Agratzli. The woman who had been kidnapped and started this whole mess. Rhaelyn's lesson may have suggested that Elisii was not entirely happy about the kidnapping, but had been an ambitious woman nevertheless who preferred Agratzli Ignividus and his gall to Zyto Xanghis and his house's cowardly history.

Elisii had been excellent at reading people. As a warrior of House Lavasy, she had been lethal with any weapon, for she always knew how to counter any attack. When they had taken Tarth, she herself had killed several of the soldiers that fought for the Storm Kings. She had been called Elisii the Elusive, marked a dangerous woman and one not to be crossed. She taught these skills to her son, King Higaal, and her daughter, Princess Nyzalli.

Nyzalli remained the only Ignividus woman who never picked up a weapon. She was married young and died in childbirth. She had not been able to raise her daughter, Eitzali, who married her cousin Rytzli and grew up alongside him with swords. The two of them that been formidable, a skill passed to their children Agraz and Etzli. Etzli had been even better than her mother, even capable of tossing blades through the air with great accuracy. Rhaelyn told her that this was what drew the attention of Aerys Targaryen, who was her first husband.

Etzli had been a teacher to Aelyx, Baelon, and Daemion, her sons by Aerys. Later in life when Aerys passed, as did Agraz's wife Aelyna Velaryon, she remarried to her brother. It was this singular act that had saved House Ignividus from extinction so long ago, for Agraz's daughter Arazza– ever lethal with a crossbow and daggers– had married her cousin Daemion and given birth to Aerion Targaryen, father of Visenya, Aegon, and Rhaenys.

Agraz and Etzli's children, King Macoatl and Queen Neitli, had been a vicious pair. Neitli was the first of the Ignividosi women to master the spear, which she had taught to Aniiro, Caytell, and Agrazos. They used these skills during the Conquest, lethal on every battlefield even without dragons. She had been the last Queen before her sons bent the knee to the Conquerors, making Aniiro the first Lord of the Phoenixfort.

But each of these women before the Conquest had died far younger than they should have. The toll each child they birthed had taken was never fully erased, and despite their battle prowess, they had died not in combat but in their beds due to fever or gout or countless other illnesses that never plagued the Targaryens. That had been the last period when the Ignividus blood had been strongest, before each generation began to see more and more sons born and less and less daughters.

The first week of lessons had involved learning the spear the way the previous Ignividosi women had all learned their own weapon of choice. The worst part was that she could not even rest and learn this all through books anymore– spoken word was her mother's preference to instill each trait while she immediately practiced it.

The following one had been much of the same, only with less of an emphasis on their history. The most interesting piece, Rhysaenya knew very well– everything that happened with Sytli and Rhysilla during the time that Maegor was King. After that, well, she drilled it into her head with ease as her mother taught her drill after drill.

Styrli and Rhysilla had had only sons– Rhystli, Arlys, Moyric, and Eilryd. Each of them had had to marry into other houses without any sisters or female cousins to wed. Rhystli and Kaella Tyrell had had only Kaeden Ignividus, Arlys and Ersa Footly had had Selena, who became Kaeden's wife. Moyric never wed, and Eilryd and Tatia Fossoway had managed a great feat– four children, two of which had been girls: Katia, Aithryd, Kitwyth, and Kaesenya. Each pair was wed, though Kaesenya and Kitwyth never managed to have children. It was in their interest, however, as Katia and Aithryd died young and it became Kitwyth and Kaesenya's responsibility to raise their sons.

These pairs had given rise to her grandparents. Kaeden and Selena had her grandmother Kaelena, while Katia and Aithryd had had the twins– Rhys and Aitwyth. Kaelena and Rhys had had Karrhys, while Aithryd and Viserra had had Rhaelyn. It was strange to Rhysaenya, as she never met any of her grandparents. Aitwyth and Viserra had died trying to escape the consequences of their passions and Kaelena had died of a strange sort of pox that overtook Tarth when Karrhys and Rhaelyn were young. Her grandfather Rhys had died shortly before Karrhys and Rhaelyn married, during the fight with Myrrish pirates that killed Prince Aemon, Princess Rhaenys's father.

It was interesting enough for her to track the Ignividus women from which she came. Elisii, Nyzalli, Eitzali, Etzli, Neitli, Rhysilla, Selena, Katia, Kaelena, and Rhaelyn. Each now with a chapter in her mind of their lessons in combat or manipulation, in poisons and tragedy. A new chapter would be added for her daughter, and her daughter's daughter, and those who came later. She would be Rhysaenya, another spear-wielder, and the first Ignividosi dragonrider. The first true Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. A part of her liked knowing she contributed something to the lineage. Perhaps that had pushed her to continue with her lessons, if only to be more than Karrhys and Rhaelyn's daughter, more than a bastard, more than Aegon or Aemond's wife.

One day, a little girl would know her name and admire her. But Rhysaenya would make sure that same little girl did not have to deal with the secrecy she did, nor these militaristic regimens. That would be a thing of the past. She wanted to have the power to change that, to be able to tell Eilryd what he could or could not do as Lord of the Phoenixfort... assuming he ever had children. Apparently, this was up to her to determine.

Her first lesson with the phoenix had happened two months after her arrival. She looked much different to herself, taller and stronger, even slightly tanner after many afternoons flying low with Skyfall over the glittering sea. She was starting not to mind the training now that she'd gotten better at it. Her mother's drills were much more manageable than what Karrhys had tried to put her through. Rhysaenya even received praise from her if she did well– she liked that.

But finally one morning, it was Karrhys and Eilryd who awaited her in the yard. She was no longer as afraid of them now that she'd come to live here. Seeing them daily had solidified a new image in her mind, one that did not involve such intimidation.

They were still fearsome, of course, in the sense that she knew they were cold-blooded killers and could decimate any person who opposed them. But most of the time, when she wasn't flying or training, she saw them laughing, she saw them talking quietly with Arrwyth or the guards. At dinner, she heard her father tell stories of his youth that she'd never even heard before. They made him sound human.

She started to like hearing the stories, seeing them all as people who were truly real, truly family, not just part of some story about her existence that she told to others in well-rehearsed sentences. Arrwyth was actually quite funny when he didn't have a spear in hand, and Eilryd clearly loved Bea very much, always a gentleman to her even if he snapped at the soldiers outside.

As for her parents, well, that was an entirely different story. She'd never gotten the sense they loved one another before, but it seemed the way they expressed their love was different. She heard them argue... quite a bit. Sometimes it was very playful, other times it seemed as though they loathed one another. Then, in the night, she'd hear them in throes and realize it was foreplay to them. Arrwyth had confirmed as much when she asked him why they were always bickering. It was how they kept the spark between them alive.

Once, she'd seen them battling while she was in the sky. The way they moved, it was like they were courting one another, dancing. It was somehow one of the most beautiful things Rhysaenya had ever seen. They understood each other, created an ebb and flow together that demonstrated how their existence depended on them being a unit. She wondered if she'd ever have that, someone who had such chemistry with her. She imagined it would more easily come from Aemond than from Aegon– he could not fight like that.

Yet, all the little fantasies had to end. She was afraid again when she saw Karrhys and Eilryd waiting for her, because the looks on their faces suggested she was about to be tested. Wordlessly, she'd followed them down into the chamber of the phoenix. She was disgusted to find it was pecking at the corpse of a sheep, its beak covered in blood. There was blood everywhere, in fact, pooling all over the floor. The phoenix didn't mind it at all.

"The phoenix has just fed," said Karrhys. "It is strong... and receptive. I want you to try to speak with it now."

"What do I do?" asked Rhysaenya. They'd told her about how a blood connection could bring about visions, everything the phoenix saw and heard. Arrwyth had told her that the phoenix, through fire, witnessed almost everything in the world. Each candle or torch that was lit could carry messages with great meaning.

Karrhys explained that this was actually how he'd learned that Rhaelyn had slept with Daemon. He'd been suspicious of her, and come to give the phoenix blood. It showed him the vision through the candles that had lit Daemon's bedchamber the night Rhaelyn came to see him. And, the phoenix had sensed a new warmth in Rhaelyn when she returned, letting Karrhys know she'd come back carrying Daemon's child.

He smiled now, offering her a blade. "You need only open your skin... and your mind. Let it speak to you. We have a question for you to ask it. You will give us the answer. We have tried ourselves... but we do not understand its meaning."

She imagined they would not tell her what they saw, so as to not prime her to some interpretation that may not be the case. "It may be that you will know better than we to harness the phoenix's magic," said Eilryd. "You are better suited for it, after all. Now, I want you to tell me how I might have a son. We cannot understand if it is I who has failed or Bea."

The real question is, do I need another wife? Rhysaenya had a feeling the answer was no. She did as she was told, taking the blade from Karrhys and pressing it into her hand. Pain was different now, less intense after all the long days in the yard. She did not wince as she cut into her hand, bringing just enough blood that the phoenix would access it. She slid her hand into the cage, offering it.

Tell me what they want to know, she asked in her mind as the phoenix tapped his beak to the blood. Then, strangely, he put his forehead against it. The feathers on his tail began to burn at the tips, as though he was looking into the flames.

She closed her eyes when she noticed he had– it felt like the right thing to do. Instantly, her mind was filled with images– pictures at first. She saw Bea's face, then Eilryd's, then Arrwyth's. She felt herself growing uncomfortable when she heard noises in her ears, the sounds of their lovemaking– she did not see it, however, which was strange. Hadn't Karrhys said he saw Rhaelyn and Daemon together?

Then, the pictures changed. She was a watcher in the walls now, looking down on Bea with a goblet of wine, pacing back and forth and holding her belly. She seemed so angry. She threw the goblet into the wall and sobbed, hugging herself and kneeling. She was distraught, Rhysaenya could feel her misery. She wanted a baby, she wanted to not feel so alone. That's what that had to mean, for she was all alone in the room and she did not like it. Of course she was alone– Eilryd and Arrwyth had other responsibilities.

Bea was one of many in the line of Tarth women who had to marry Ignividus men and soldiers because of how Agratzli had come to establish himself on their island. They'd been trapped in this cycle for so long, dethroned and captive. For Bea, she wagered, having a child meant she had something of her own at long last.

Is it her? She asked it over and over, hoping the phoenix would answer. But then, she saw more images. She saw Eilryd kissing a girl she did not recognize, then saw the same girl with Arrwyth. Then came another girl, only this time she stood naked before both of the brothers, curling her hand at them to beckon them closer. That had to mean they'd lain with other women. Had they sired sons, then? Daughters? The phoenix showed her nothing. It had to mean it was them, they were cursed now, the lineage was at its end. He confirmed her line of thinking when the images began to flicker and fade. She saw a candle reaching the last inch of wick, the wax seeping off its holder.

What can they do? She assumed perhaps there was a spell or something to restore their fertility. Perhaps the phoenix would show her a book she could reference or let her hear the chant and memorize it. Instead, she saw one more face. It wasn't what she expected.

She drew her hand away from the phoenix, face red when she realized the implications of it. "Well?" demanded Eilryd immediately. He was as eager as Karrhys, who loomed over with narrowed eyes. "Tell me, what did it show you? How can I have my son?"

She blinked several times, staring into the fire on the phoenix's tail. It went out, and the phoenix turned back to the sheep it had been devouring. He looked so furious when she kept not answering, she thought he might attack her. "How do we propagate the line?" demanded Karrhys, making her face redden. He must have thought she was afraid. "Tell me now.There is no use in you hiding things from us."

"There is another path," she said carefully. "But the phoenix wanted to keep feeding so he might see it. I... I will come back when he is full." She ran from them before they could keep her there– she didn't want to be anywhere near them, not when they were upset.

She kept running, making for the wing of the castle where their bedrooms were. She knew she'd find Bea where she always was, in Eilryd's apartments. They were the second largest in the castle after the one her parents shared, overlooking the valley below. It had a library within, and in her few conversations with Bea, she learned that the woman liked to read.

"Rhysaenya," she said in surprise when the guard announced her. "You're not who I expected. Eilryd told me you'd be with the phoenix looking for a way for..." She regarded her face, tilting her head. "You found it. You came to tell me."

"I didn't tell them," she said quietly. "It has to be you that should know it. It's for you to decide if it is what you want." If I make it her choice, at least then she won't be hurt by it. But if I tell them, they may do whatever suits them without caring about her feelings.

Bea furrowed her brows. She looked so beautiful always, Rhysaenya couldn't believe her brothers were lucky enough to have her. She looked more Valyrian than they did. "What is it, my dear? You look so worried."

She had a gentle air about her, something Rhysaenya had hardly seen in the women she'd been surrounded with. She came to sit beside Bea, pursing her lips. "My brothers can never give you children," she said regrettably. Bea's expression flickered into sadness. "But there is someone of Ignividus blood who can. I didn't want to say it to them. But it... it's... my father."

The woman's eyes widened, her face turning red. "But... why? How?"

"I don't know. But the phoenix showed me his face. He made sons with my mother. For whatever reason, they could not have more children together, but then he had Moyric. That has to mean something. Eilryd and Arrwyth have not managed to make a child with you in too many years. They are doomed. But... your sons might not be. I think the phoenix is telling me that you should have children with... Karrhys. At least start trying to. When I marry, I will be able to have daughters. They will marry their cousins and replenish the Valyrian blood."

She saw the way Bea wrung her fingers together. "They will be upset that you did not tell them this when they asked. You came right to me to give me a choice in the matter. You are kind, Rhysaenya. I... I don't know what I will do with this information. Your mother could kill me if she finds me attempting to seduce her husband. Your brothers might kill me if they heard I wanted to try such a thing."

"Do whatever is best for you," said Rhysaenya. "If... if you prefer, I can tell them they need to take another wife. Let them try another few years."

"You are not responsible for such a burden, sweet girl. No, I will handle this."

In a single moment she became responsible for their fates. She hated the burden. Karrhys had yelled at her at dinner for being so weak, she had to lie and blame the phoenix to hide the fact she had not been able to open her mind. No one had defended her at the table, save for Bea Tarth who asked quietly if perhaps that meant that all they needed was more time if there was no solution to show. That had at least calmed Karrhys down– he didn't seem to like yelling at her on Eilryd's behalf.

She suffered the consequences of her silence. The following morning and every morning after that for a month, her father was the one training her. He demonstrated no mercy. He woke her up at daybreak and made her hold heavy things for hours on end, progressively getting heavier each day. Each time she begged for mercy, begged for a break, she had to run around the perimeter of the castle.

Then, there was the swimming. He'd taught her to swim by throwing her into the water and expecting her to come back up. She'd nearly drowned three times. She'd gone crying to Bea one late afternoon, begging her to teach her secretly so she might not fail the next time. Bea had snuck out to the beach with her and shown her what to do. The fourth time, she was fine. But then, Karrhys had her start swimming in the sea for hours, expecting her to always make it back to shore no matter how tired she was.

The sparring came after that month, once she'd put on more strength. She was to challenge him now that she'd learned drills from her mother. It had gone as poorly as she expected. Day after day, she was knocked flat on her arse. He yelled in her face, he kicked her legs out from under her, and if she dared show any emotion– excitement at a butterfly during her breaks, amusement when the soldiers made faces (this must have been on purpose, she wagered), or even an indication she was on the verge of tears, he beat into her harder. It was as though they wanted all the kindness gone from her, all the morals that made her want to protect anyone with secrecy. She learned her lesson the hard way.

Each time, Skyfall would go into a frenzy. She roared and circled the castle whenever they were pushing Rhysaenya too close to her limits. When they flew after her lessons, Skyfall seemed to want to fly back to King's Landing on her own, only for Rhysaenya to sadly turn her around and beg her not to take her yet– she had to finish the trials, she had to, she had to. She had to become a warrior, it was expected of her.

At last, the torment subsided. They rung the bells in the castle the day Bea told them at dinner that she was with child. She'd given Rhysaenya a look, one that only the two could understand. She knew it had been done, that which she had not wanted to say. So she knew her father would stop beating into her now that he knew what she'd been hiding.

Still, he did not say he was proud of her. None of them did. The day she turned ten, she knew that all she could expect was more of this. More and more. For however long it took for them to see in her the Queen that would one day be.