" The Stepstones were meant to be won for the realm, but over the past few days it seems we have traded a crabfeeder for a Sea Snake."

" This is clearly a rebuke for passing over Lady Laena for Queen Alicent."

" Years have passed since the bidding with his daughter. Certainly, he still cannot be wroth?" The King asks as he sits at the head of the table for the Small Council meeting.

" The Sea Snake is an overproud man, your grace. That pride has been injured," The maester responds, " Perhaps we can salve the wound?"

" I fear Lord Corlys is the least of our worries."

" I don't wish to cause you further distress, your grace, but my brother has sent disturbing word from Oldtown," Otto interrupts, " Lord Corlys is said to have engaged in negotiations with the Sea Lord of Braavos. He plans to wed his daughter Laena to the Sea Lord's son. If House Velaryon entered into an alliance with the Free Cities, then... we would have to seek out our own marriage pact."

Rhaenyra tenses at the thought, not only for herself... but for her sister. For Vaemyra.

While Rhaenyra may be of age... Vaemyra is young. Too young. She can't be married off—she mustn't.

Rhaenyra knows in her heart who she wishes to be with, but she also knows that the realm would not allow it. And above all, her father would not allow it.

The wailing of the small babe serenades the heir as she walks to her chambers, bidding Ser Criston goodnight before finally deciding to retire.

She removes her jewelry and sets it down on the table, but something is odd. She empties out a seemingly innocent satchel, only to find old and tattered clothes within.

She gives it a sniff, and it smells like dirt. It smells musty. It smells like a peasant.

How peculiar.

She finds a rolled-up note beside the clothes, and she opens it up to reveal a small map with High Valyrian text. She reads over the words carefully and follows the instructions of the map, pressing on one particular brick until a secret door opens.

A hidden passage.

Those known only to Maegor the Cruel.

She places the old clothes over her body and covers her hair with a wool cap. She descends the stairs that lead her to a balcony overlooking the Kingdom. She thinks that nobody will spot her, but she is quite wrong.

For who else would find Rhaenyra but her sister?

Vaemyra happens to be overlooking her balcony atop the high floor and catches a glimpse of something moving. She turns her head to the left and sees Rhaenyra sneaking about.

Strange.

Where would she be going at this late hour?

Suppose there's only one way to find out.

Vaemyra takes a similar approach, finding her plainest garbs to wear, and tops it all off with a hooded cloak.

She looks over the balcony, following the stairs she saw Rhaenyra go down with her eyes until she wagers that it leads to her chambers.

Excitedly, Vaemyra exits her chambers and saunters off to Rhaenyra's, where Criston Cole stands guard.

" Goodnight, Ser Criston," Vaemyra says as she opens the door.

" Good... night, Princess," Ser Criston trails, all-be-it, dumbfoundedly.

Once inside, Vaemyra eyes the quite obvious hole in the wall, and once near, it is confirmed to be a set of stairs hiding there.

The little Targaryen descends the steps that lead her to the inner works of the city, a place she's always lived above. She tries to keep up with her sister and uncle, but ends up getting lost in the crowd. She's lost in the sea of people, and ends up climbing a top a barrel just to see something, and across the grouping of heads she sees a stage. A smile appears on her face, for she thinks it's just a play.

" And now we come to the matter of the great Iron Chair...and whose bum it might bear. Our good King... names his daughter, a girl, his heir. But then to him, a babe is born.  A son! To which heir might the chair bear? Who will it be? The brother? The daughter? Or the little princeling of three?  Rhaenyra... the Realm's Delight... a girl so young and so slight... loved by all of her people, but would she make a powerful queen, or would she be feeble? Though Aegon, the babe Prince, might long for a claim, he has two things Rhaenyra cannot: a conqueror's name... and a cock."

The smile slowly disappears from Vaemyra's face, as her eyes and ears show her how the people of King's Landing truly feel about her and her family.

A person passes by with a sliver of white hair hanging from beneath a hat, and it's enough to catch the young girl's attention. Vaemyra follows the person to whom she assumes is her sister, paying no mind to the establishment she walks into.

Wherever Rhaenyra goes, Vaemyra must follow.

Within the depths of a pleasure house, there lies countless men and women, naked as the day they were born and sharing each other, in ways unknown to the princess till now. Vaemyra loses sight of her sister, for her eyes are locked on everything around her.

The men.

The women.

It's all so much, and yet not enough.

Vaemyra cannot look away. It's too fascinating. She watches two women as they lock lips and grind against one another, then turns her head to listen to the delicious moans coming from a man's mouth as another man lay between his legs.

It's amazing.

It's arousing.

Vaemyra feels a tingling sensation between her legs, one that has never been there before. Her cheeks heat up as her heart pounds in her chest, and is only snapped from her daze as a familiar name enters the air.

" Daemon."

Daemon?

Vaemyra's ears perk up at the mention of her uncle, and her head turns to see Rhaenyra escaping the brothel, and on pure instinct, the little sister follows.

" Rhaenyra?"

" Vaemyra?"

The elder princess turns, eyes wide in shock.

" Did you come from the brothel?" Rhaenyra nervously ponders.

And without hesitation, Vaemyra responds.

" A brothel? Why on Earth would I be in a brothel?"

Vaemyra's lie seems to work well enough, for the Targaryen princesses soon reenter the castle, where Rhaenyra goes to her chambers and brings a knight into her bed, whilst Vaemyra is alone in her own bed, eyes staring up at the ceiling as she recounts the sights she saw within the pleasure house. Her hands act without thought as they slip beneath her dress and bring pleasure to her body, to which she is brought to a quick slumber in order to recover her body and mind.

The young Targaryen princess awakens later than usual. The sun beats down on her face, yet she sleeps till her hand-maiden enters the room to prepare her for the day. Vaemyra feels tired, she feels drained. She rubs her eyes as she gets out of bed, allowing the hand-maiden to change her and style her hair. Vaemyra then sits down at the table in her chambers to be served breakfast. She looks down at the food in front of her; moments later, it's gone. It sits in her belly as she chugs a glass of water with little droplets rolling down her chin and onto her dress.

The princess scarfs down her food, leaving all but a few crumbs on her plate before leaving her chambers to saunter through the halls of the Red Keep. She wishes to pay a visit to her father but sees a knight with a green cloak standing outside his door.

Otto.

Vaemyra stays hidden from the view of the knight but gets close enough to the door to listen to the conversation all while hiding behind a large drape.

The words are soft-spoken and hard to hear. She strains her ears in order to grasp the severity of the conversation.

" It is no easy thing to tell a father of his daughter's exploits."

Vaemyra's eyes widen.

Oh no.

She's been caught.

She must have been seen sneaking out of the castle.

" The Princess was spied last evening, beyond the walls of the Keep... in a pleasure house."

Fuck.

Vaemyra's heart frantically beats as the walls of the Keep seem to be crashing in on her.

She's fucked.

She's ruined.

" Daemon and Rhaenyra were seen together, in the bowels of a pleasure den... Coupling."

Vaemyra's heart stops beating for a singular moment as her ears perk up.

Rhaenyra and Daemon?

So that was the figure Vaemyra saw last night. It was her uncle.

While Vaemyra is used to her family's strange customs, she knows one truth to be absolute.

All women are to be virgins until they are married, and if they are not they are seen as... undesirable. As unworthy.

Otto knows.

The King knows.

She has to tell her sister.

Vaemyra departs from behind the drape and sprints down the hall to find her sister. She goes to her chamber, but it sits empty. She goes to the dragon pit, but Syrax is still inside.

Where the hell is she?

The last place Vaemyra looks is the Godswood. She's successful in finding her sister, but her timing is all but successful.

The Queen stands with the heir... and the Queen knows.

" Your father accused me of something. That I drank wine? Left the castle after dark?"

" That you fucked Daemon in a pleasure house."

" This is a vile accusation," Rhaenyra states.

" Is it? You Targaryen's do have queer customs," Alicent spits, " And Daemon certainly knows no limit--"

" Alicent... Your Grace, sister, you must know I would never. You cannot believe such gossip," The Princess pleads.

" My father is no gossip," The Queen defends.

" Well, certainly he's been misled. He could not have witnessed such a thing."

" Why not?"

" Because it did not happen."

" He was told that you--"

" Told?... Who made these claims to your father?"

And there it is. Rhaenyra finally has some leverage.

" I am the Princess," She starts as she walks around to place her back to the tree, " To question my virtue is an act of treason."

" I do not know specifically--" Alicent says in an attempt to clear her name.

" Your father did not tell you?" Rhaenyra asks.

" He reported it to the King," Alicent affirms, her face neutral yet strong, " I overheard."

" So you are accusing me of slanders... you overheard?" The Princess presses, using all she can to remove any wrongdoing from her name.

" I only want to help you, Rhaenyra," The Queen pleads as she steps forward with glossy eyes.

Rhaenyra takes a deep breath and Vaemyra stands her ground out of sight and out of mind.

" We drank in a tavern," She starts, " Several... taverns. It was getting late and I asked to go home. But Daemon wished to continue. As he was my escort, I had no real choice."

" Continue?" Alicent quotes, " In a brothel?"

" He took me to a show," Rhaenyra brushes off, " I was only a spectator. I didn't do anything," the Queen turns around, " And then Daemon sank into his cups and abandoned me for some whore. I should've known better."

" So you did not?"

" Must I truly refute that? Daemon never touched me. I swear this to you on the memory of my mother."

Vaemyra's breath gets caught in her throat.

Lying is a fairly new thing for her... but to throw their mother's name out like that as if it means nothing? It doesn't sit well with the young princess.

But Rhaenyra continues to lie. As if it's second nature.

The heir soon leaves the Godswood, and the Queen is seemingly all alone. Alicent sniffs and turns around, but the moment she lifts her head she notices a head full of white hair and makes eye contact with two round eyes.

" Your Grace," Vaemyra acknowledges.

And now it's Alicent's turn to panic.

Fuck.

She knows.

" Princess," The Queen says, " What are you doing here?"

" I came to see my sister," Vaemyra replies, " But it seems as though she was preoccupied."

Alicent looks at her step-daughter with a mixture of pain and pity. She does not wish for Vaemyra to become like her sister... yet she also does not wish for Vaemyra to become like herself.

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[ im gonna have to make this story less graphic so the overlords don't take it down again 😒 sorry in advance for the subpar smut ]