The Red Keep, King's Landing, 115 AC

The King called a hunt.

Two years had passed since Aegon's birth. Two years where Daella had gone from a girl of fourteen to a girl of seventeen, beautiful and bold. There were many who had seen her grow, who had watched her teach Aegon his first words and heard that he'd taken his first steps into her arms. They watched her take him on her dragon and talk to him about the world, all while Rhaenyra became ever more stubborn.

Daella and Rhaenyra spoke, but perhaps not as often as Daella thought they would've after the day on Dragonstone. Their paths diverged again after Aegon's birth, and Rhaenyra liked to disappear for hours at a time, always on a new adventure. She never invited Daella, and Daella stopped being bothered about that.

She didn't care, she had Aegon and she could go see Laenor and Laena whenever she wanted. She had read many of the books in the library by now and though she'd neglected her studies with a sword, she'd learned she was much better with a smaller blade– her knife knew how to dance in her hands the same way many ladies twirled in a man's arms. Sometimes, the knife knew how to fly like she did on Vermithor– and more often than not, it reached its target. She was better at defending herself and attacking that way— close quarters were where she was strongest. Quick and nimble, she was quickly getting to a point where she'd bring her blade to Laenor's chin without needing to overpower him.

Aegon's second nameday was bringing great celebration, though the castle was abuzz with excitement as Alicent neared the end of her second pregnancy as well. Daella found that Alicent annoyed her less these days, perhaps because she saw the pregnancy wasn't treating her as kindly. She was heavy, looking ready to burst with one misstep. It reminded her of her mother. Alicent was the enemy, she put herself up for this, but Daella did not wish any further pain on her. If she was to die, let it be without such strain.

She watched her father's hand pass over Alicent's belly as they gathered in the Small Council chambers, ready to depart for a royal hunt. Daella was receiving much attention, being the one to hold Aegon for all to wish him a wonderful nameday. Rhaenyra was absent again, though Daella knew her sister wasn't one to feign smiles on such an occasion. She did, for Aegon's sake.

"Princess," said Otto Hightower, sliding to stand beside her as she rocked Aegon back and forth, listening to him babble on about a flower he could see in a lady's hair. "Have you any idea where your sister is? Your father is wondering. He wishes to depart soon."

"I haven't the faintest idea," said Daella honestly. Rhaenyra went wherever Rhaenyra wanted to go, and Daella was often not part of those places. At least she did not feel so jealous of her sister these days. Yes, it was still unfair that Rhaenyra was never chastised for the many things she did, but now many saw what they'd neglected to before– Daella was much more dutiful to her family, and a diligent girl who cared for her little brother. Not to mention one who would have Vermithor swallow whole anyone that she disliked. That was always fun to think about.

She heard Otto sigh. He was sometimes the only one who seemed to share her disappointment in matters concerning Rhaenyra. She liked Otto, with his sage wisdom. She'd never really known him, always having seen him as Alicent's father when she was a little girl. The clever man who advised her grandsire then her father. Serious and pensive, brutally honest in the way she often was– her mother used to say she should coat her words in sugar, but Daella always thought that truth was a dish best served without any garnish.

She'd started to speak with him more since her mother's passing. In those days where her father was a ghost and did not remember his daughter, Otto was the one who came asking how she was, and if she needed anything. She used to brush him aside until she realized he was the only one who seemed to care. Then, sometimes she'd admit that she would like some treat or another book. He'd have it arranged for her and give her a little smile– she imagined that probably made him feel accomplished, and it certainly did make her feel better.

When Aegon was born, Otto became an important part of her rounds. She'd carry her baby brother around to say goodnight to everyone on the nights she let him sleep next to her. First, she'd take him to Viserys and Alicent– or only Viserys if Alicent was not with him– then to Rhaenyra (who only half-smiled and bade Daella goodnight) and last to his grandfather, all the way up in the Tower of the Hand. Otto would always smile when they came, and tell his little prince to have a goodnight. He'd wish her a good night as well, and often thank her for attending to him.

Over time, those nightly pop ins had become chats. Aegon was older now, and didn't need to sleep so early. He liked to join conversation, and sometimes when Otto asked how Daella was doing, she'd sit with Aegon on her lap and talk to Otto. She liked to listen, too, while he told her about the happenings of the kingdom. It wasn't like her father or Rhaenyra updated her much; everything she learned was from other people. She liked his cadence, the way he explained his thoughts, sometimes going too far and deciding that he ought not bore her– she'd always insist she was not bored. Aegon liked to hear him talk, too, he'd be quiet and stare up at him with great big eyes.

Once, he'd asked her what she thought about marriage. It was an interesting topic they'd never touched upon– they hardly migrated into personal things like that. Only once before had Otto asked how she was coping with her mother's death, and he admitted to her that the pain lessened over the years but never faded– he remembered his wife's death as if it were yesterday, and still missed her dearly. It was always better to remember the lives lived, to cherish them and live on as they would've been fortunate to, had the gods not taken them.

Daella had been honest about her curiosity with marriage. About how she thought she was nearing the age to wed, and that she knew her duty was to marry well to create strong alliances for the Crown. There was no need to go into further detail about how for the past two years, her desires had not become any further muted– the sooner she married, the better, for she wanted so badly to know what it felt like to be bedded. Her fingers were no longer enough.

Last time she was on Driftmark, Laenor teased that she might as well turn her sword on herself. She'd thought it was a stupid jape about killing herself and readied to smack him, until he clarified that sword hilts were about the girth of a man's cock. She considered it, but worried that she would not bleed on the night of her wedding if she tore her maidenhead on the sword. It wasn't a bad idea, though, and one she thought about more often than she cared to admit. She was jealous that Laenor had already had an experience with a boy– it wasn't fair, they were of age and he was free to explore.

Otto had taken her words and nodded slowly, as if only fulfilling a duty. But Daella wondered if he was asking because of another reason... perhaps her admiration of Ser Gwayne had never been one-sided. Perhaps, now that the Realm knew she was actually beautiful in a way they didn't use to believe, Ser Gwayne was interested in marrying her. Oh, she knew he must be so much more handsome, if he'd already been so good-looking nigh three years ago at seventeen. He was more of a man now at twenty, and she wanted a man for herself.

Otto looked at her now while she tickled Aegon's nose, scanning the room for any sign of Rhaenyra. She was still not ready to make herself known. She heard him lean over and mutter for one of the knights to go and locate her. He knew she heard him, for his eyes flickered to her again. She only smiled.

When Rhaenyra was finally located, they were piled into a carriage together with their father, Alicent, Aegon, and the wetnurses that often attended to him and Alicent. Daella held Aegon on her lap while the boy looked at Rhaenyra, attempting to sound out her name– it was a difficult one for him, too long. Sometimes, he said 'Day' for Daella.

"Well, isn't this splendid?" said their father. "The whole of our family off to celebration and adventure in the Kingswood." Daella beamed politely while Rhaenyra squinted her eyes in a passable smile.

The carriage gave a sharp lurch against a bump in the road. "Should you be traveling in such condition?" said Rhaenyra as Alicent clutched her swollen belly. Alicent hesitated, "The Maester said that being out in nature would do me well."

Daella did not think that sound advice. She thought her next sibling was going to be born in nature resembling a scrambled egg. "The two of you will be with your own children sooner than late," said the King. "And make me a proud grandsire."

"It's not so bad," said Alicent encouragingly. "The days are long but Aegon came quickly and without fuss."

"I seem to recall a great deal more shouting," said Daella as the wet nurse and handmaidens exchanged looks that suggested Alicent was being less than truthful, just as both girls knew. Daella had heard Alicent sobbing and begging for her mother. How dare she pretend everything was easy, especially knowing what'd befallen their mother? It wasn't as though they didn't know the truth. That was what she didn't like about Alicent, how much she liked to lie.

Viserys noticed how her words struck them this time. "You both should ride out with me today. Join in the chase."

"I'd rather not," Rhaenyra decided. "The boars squeal like children when they're being slaughtered. I find it discomforting."

"It's a hunt, Rhaenyra. How would you like to participate?"

Rhaenyra shrugged dismissively. "I'm not sure why we must."

"Because you are my daughters. The Princesses. You are heir to the Iron Throne and you have duties."

Rhaenyra spoke under her breath, "As I am ceaselessly reminded."

The King asked for clarification, "I'm sorry?"

"As I am ceaselessly reminded!" she burst out.

"You wouldn't need to be reminded if you ever attended to them."

"No one is here for me or Daella."

Viserys turned to his youngest daughter. "You will ride with me."

She didn't want to start another argument by saying she'd rather spend time with Aegon in their tent. Perhaps the hunt could be fun, a way to show her skill. She liked to ride, whether it was dragons or horses. She knew how to shoot a little bit, and many were impressed with how she twirled her knife. "As you wish, Father." He smiled at that, glaring at Rhaenyra, who did not acknowledge him.

Their subjects had gathered in a clearing of the Kingswood, tents already set up to eat and sleep in, the hunt ready to begin upon their arrival. The carriage came to a stop, doors opening to lead them out. Viserys was first, followed by Alicent, then the wet nurse with Aegon.

"Hail, hail Aegon, the Conqueror-Babe, Second of His Name," called out Lord Hobert Hightower. "Here's to His Grace on his second name day!"

Everyone clapped as Aegon was handed to Viserys, though Daella wondered if Lord Hightower should have dared to say such a thing, blatantly proclaiming Aegon as heir though he wasn't yet– her father didn't take kindly to those sorts of things. Rhaenyra scoffed, waiting for Daella to emerge from the carriage before she followed her. Following after Aegon, Daella went to fetch herself a cup of wine, then took her little brother with her to walk through the tent, wandering to where many of the ladies had already settled themselves with food and gossip.

"Lady Johanna was reported to have been abducted when one of Lord Swann's ships sailed through the Stepstones," said Lady Ceira Lannister. Daella didn't like most of the Lannisters, they didn't seem to know when to be quiet.

"What will happen to Lady Johanna?" inquired Alicent, already relaxing. She rubbed her belly anxiously, the way Daella remembered her mother doing. Stop pretending this doesn't ache in you, Alicent. If you were just honest, there would not be a problem.

"She's to be sold to a pillow house in the Free Cities if you believe the rumors."

Larys Strong, The Clubfoot, approached them, cane in hand. "I fear the gods did not make me for hunting," he said. "Might I sit with you, my ladies?"

They made room for him immediately. "But of course," said the Queen. "Please join us." She introduced him to the other women, "Larys Strong, the youngest son of our Master of Law, Lord Lyonel."

The women seemed to think him fit to join them; it wasn't as though he could prance about on a horse. The man nodded kindly, glancing to where Daella paced back and forth with Aegon, who did not like when she sat still. "My Lord husband says that no King has ever been able to tame the Stepstones for long," piped up another woman. "It's an inhospitable place suited only for savages."

"Perhaps the Princesses can give us some insight," offered Lady Ceira. Daella glanced sideways to where Rhaenyra lingered, also listening. Her sister smiled awkwardly. "I'm not sure how we could. We've never been to the Stepstones."

Lady Ceira raised a brow. "Your dear uncle is the great mind behind this war. Is he not?"

"So they say," replied Daella curtly. She knew as much from Otto and even from Laena, but she hadn't heard much recently– Laenor and Seasmoke had left to join the conflict and it seemed neither he nor Corlys remembered how to send letters. "But we've not seen him in years."

"Since the Princess Rhaenyra supplanted him as heir."

Alicent spoke up, "Daemon made his choices, Lady Ceira. The Princess was more suited to the role."

Neither Daella nor Rhaenyra was pleased at her intervention. Lady Ceira continued, "He's made a mess and the King must put an end to it. Send fleets and men and clear out the Triarchy for good."

"But The Crown is not at war," said Rhaenyra. Daella wouldn't have said that, exactly. Otto had mentioned the Crown was in a war that Viserys would not acknowledge– it was a difficult position to be in, struggling with the Free Cities. If Viserys sent open aid, the Free Cities might take it as a personal slight. But if he did nothing, it would be humiliation– and many more would die. Daella wouldn't mind if Daemon did, but did not wish anything to happen to Laenor.

"The Crown is at war, Princess," said Lady Redwyne. "Though your father refuses to admit it, we've been dragged into it by your uncle and The Sea Snake."

Rhaenyra replied curly. "And how have you served the realm of late, Lady Redwyne, by eating cake?"

The pug on the woman's lap devoured the rest of the cake on Lady Redwyne's plate. Daella suppressed a smile as Rhaenyra took her leave. Daella followed her out of the tent, thinking the women contributed little with this idle chit-chat. "Come," she said, looping her arm with Rhaenyra's. "Let us get something to eat where they cannot question us."

"What do you think about it?" asked Rhaenyra once they were away. She did not remove her arm from Daella's– she was in a good enough mood, to not mind Aegon being there. "The War for the Stepstones."

"If the threat is not contained now by Lord Corlys and Daemon, it will spread like an illness," said Daella. "First the Triarchy loots Velaryon ships, then they plant men or rats who will sneak into cities and cause enormous troubles."

"And what of Father's opinion, that it was rash to go to war and that negotiations ought to have first been made with Pentos and Volantis?"

"That may have taken too long, but may have been suitable if there was a way of containing the threat without sparking a war with the Triarchy in the meantime. I don't see why it rages on. Between Caraxes, and Seasmoke, they have the power to crush them. To crush anyone who interferes. First it's the Triarchy growing brave and stupid enough to interfere in matters that don't concern them, then it's the entirety of Essos choosing to take what is ours. If this has been started, Father might as well dispatch me and Vermithor... we'd make quick work of the Triarchy, I say."

"I wonder, Princess Rhaenyra," came a voice behind them, unceremoniously interrupting, "was your own second name day as grand as this?"

Rhaenyra turned to the man calling for her attention. "I honestly don't recall and neither will Aegon." She glanced sideways at the babe, who tried to mouth the word 'recall.'

The man approached, bowing his head. "Lord Jason Lannister." She regarded him, not quite impressed. "I gathered that from all the lions." This surprised him, "I don't think we've been properly introduced."

She said, "Your twin serves on my Father's council." Jason accepted a drink from a maid passing by, "Tyland is... frightfully dull, gods love him." He offered the wine to Rhaenyra. "The finest honeyed wine you'll ever taste. Made in Lannisport, of course."

Daella felt like an idiot standing there, watching Rhaenyra take her sip as Jason continued, "The Kingswood, it's fine hunting ground. But the best spot is to be found at Casterly Rock, near my home. Have you been?"

"Once," said Rhaenyra. "On a tour with my mother and sister when I was young, and I honestly can't recall much of that either."

"The Rock is thrice the height of the Hightower in Oldtown, taller still than the Wall in the North. It's been said that if one were to stand in the tower on a perfect day," he stood right behind Rhaenyra, extending his hand past her face, "one could see clear across the Sunset Sea."

"It must be quite something," said Rhaenyra, unamused.

"I don't have a Dragonpit, of course, but I do have the means and resources to build one."

Daella knew what he wanted from the moment he'd begun talking to them. It was only now that Rhaenyra turned to face him, "Why would you need a Dragonpit?"

"To house dragons, of course. I'd do anything for my Queen or lady wife."

Rhaenyra handed the cup back to him. "Thank you for the wine." She grabbed Daella's arm and pulled her away.

"Though he is near our age, he looks almost as old as Father," snickered Daella.

"And I believe that is precisely who sent him," said Rhaenyra, not smiling. She clearly did not share the same thoughts of marriage as her sister. Daella would never stoop to marry a man like Jason Lannister. Not quite handsome enough and too pompous for her tastes. He didn't seem the sort of man who would try to please her in bed.

Rhaenyra stormed them back into the tent, interrupting Viserys's conversation with Lord Lyonel Strong. "Is that what I am to you?" asked Rhaenyra. "A prize to proffer about to the great houses?" Daella almost immediately stepped away from her, placing a hand to cover Aegon's ears– she hadn't been expecting her sister to be so upset.

Viserys sighed, trying to ease the tension. "You are of age, Rhaenyra, and your sister will follow in a year's time. And Jason Lannister is an excellent match."

"He's arrogant and self-serious!"

"I thought you might have that in common," said Viserys.

"Father," warned Daella as he began to speak louder. Aegon was starting to fuss; he never liked when people raised their voices. Daella always spoke softly to him, she sang to him.

Viserys ignored her. "Since you came of age, Rhaenyra, I've been slowly drowning in a lake of parchment flung from every corner of the realm. Marriage proposals, all. And I have tried often to discuss it with you, but you've refused me at every turn."

"That is because I do not wish to get married!"

He was shouting now, "Even I do not exist above tradition and duty, Rhaenyra!"

"Excuse me, Your Grace," said Otto, reminding them of where they were. Everyone was watching.

Viserys stared at Rhaenyra. "You must marry. Yes, Otto?"

"The royal huntsman have sent a report, Your Grace," announced the Hand as Rhaenyra slipped away. "There's been a sighting of a white hart. The stag is 'The King of the Kingswood,' Your Grace. A regal portent for Prince Aegon's name day."

"Come along," said Viserys to Daella, prompting her to hand Aegon to the wetnurses. With a sigh, she did so. "Perhaps you would be more open to the conversation your sister avoids. And this hunt."

She nodded obediently, wanting him to see that she always had been more receptive to these things, only no one had noticed. She waved goodbye to Aegon, hearing the familiar voice of Ser Criston Cole shouting outside, "Princess, wait!"

Through the flaps of the tent, she saw Rhaenyra riding away on a white mare. Viserys heaved an angry sigh, and Daella did her best not to purse her lips too hard. Had she done that, she'd hear shouting behind her. But perhaps going on this hunt was a good thing, perhaps then her father would see that she took her duty seriously, that she did not forget that she was to serve her family.

The hunt was boring, however. Her father seemed more eager to forget Rhaenyra's outburst than speak to Daella about marriage. She wondered if he'd been receiving letters asking for her hand in marriage as well. The more she thought about it, however, she imagined such letters would be easily lost in the pile. Of course more of them were for Rhaenyra. She was the one who had her status as heir. Even though Daella was becoming more respected, nothing changed the fact she was not Princess of Dragonstone. That irked her a bit.

Her father and his men spoke casually. Idle talk that she found avoidant– they didn't talk about politics or the Stepstones, but about white harts and crops and which high lords were marrying which ladies. It was stupid, she preferred something with more substance. How her father was entertained by repeated mentions of Aegon's growth astounded her. Had he actually looked at his son recently? Of course he was growing.

Their pace slowed, leaving her to ride beside Ser Otto. They were quiet at first, both listening to Viserys begin a story about his first hunt with his father– gods, Daella was sure he'd told this same story before, to all of these men. They pretended they'd never heard it, anyway. She was thinking about marriage again, and decided there were more interesting conversations to have.

"Ser Otto," she said casually, "how fares Ser Gwayne? It's been some time since I've seen him." The last time I saw him, he was hurt by Daemon. I never got to see if he was alright. So much changed that day, so much, but I still remember how handsome he was.

"He is well, Princess," said Otto. "Strong as ever and serving in the Reach. He is a fine knight and an able rider– he is trusted with carrying many an important message for my brother. He would have come for the hunt, but remained behind to keep his cousin company. The boy is growing and will one day be Lord of the Hightower."

Daella smiled, that sounded exactly like what Gwayne would do. "He was always so considerate and protective, I admired that in him." Alicent used to tell her stories about how good of a brother Gwayne was, how he carried her on his shoulders and used to stop their brothers– the twins Norman and Bryndon– from getting into trouble. "I would have liked to see him again."

"You are welcome to visit Oldtown whenever you would like," said Otto amiably. "Though I know he would gladly answer the summons of a Princess if asked to visit. I am sure his nephew would like to meet him. You are very gentle with the little Prince, all have noticed."

"How could I not be?" Daella was stunned anyone would think otherwise of her. "He's my little brother. A Prince." Likely our future King, as much as Rhaenyra might like to remain heir. If I were heir, I suppose I wouldn't want Aegon to be King, either. But I would be taking my duties far more seriously. I'd have chosen a husband already, I'd have given the Realm an heir of my own. I wouldn't be running away and sulking.

They dismounted in a clearing, where the trackers had rounded back with a report. Daella's nose scrunched as her father examined droppings offered to them by the royal huntsman, who was trying to tell him they'd been found half a league to the East, and fresh– they were only hours behind him, a great beast they'd surely find.

Viserys was certainly happy. "And now we have his trail. Before the dragons ruled over Westeros, the white hart was a symbol of royalty in these lands."

"And on this day of all days," mused Otto, the first time he'd spoken the entire ride. "I've never been one for signs and portents, Your Grace, but if the gods did wish to show their favor..."

Viserys tapped his shoulder good-naturedly, then mounted his horse to return to their camp until it was time to pursue further. Daella noticed how Otto seemed almost disappointed with the lack of acknowledgement. She realized he knew the truth, too, but no one wanted to say it. She remembered her conversation with the Princess Rhaenys, many years ago.

Most of it came true– her father had remarried, and now he had a male babe. Alicent might give birth to another. It would surely save them grief if Viserys changed his mind. He would, she knew her father would, he was so obsessed with the birth of a son that he let her mother be killed for it. If he did not name Aegon heir, it would be a disservice to her mother's memory, the reason she died. Not to mention he'd launch the Realm into chaos.

Rhaenyra had not returned in the evening. Wherever she was, Ser Criston was still with her. Daella ate on her own, watching Aegon giggle on the floor. Once she was sated, she settled herself beside him, listening as her father argued with Jason Lannister. She didn't pay it much mind, other than to whisper to Aegon that no Lannister would be good for Rhaenyra— they all sounded like selfish prats.

"But you won't be a selfish prat, will you, Aegon?" she said, bouncing him on her knee. "No, you will be a good boy." As Jason departed, she scooped him up and went to her father, who took a tired sip of his wine. "Father. What happens to Aegon now?"

Viserys looked confused (though perhaps because Aegon had begun to bite his own hand). "What do you mean, my dear?"

"He's your firstborn son with that girl," said Daella. "Will he replace Rhaenyra as heir the way she replaced Daemon?"

His face fell slightly, and he shook his head fervently. "No, my girl. I did not decide to name Rhaenyra my heir on a whim. She is more than capable, and I trust she will grow into her role. Aegon will be whatever he wishes to be." He smiled, tapping his son's face.

"He'll be a smart lad," said Daella, caressing his head. She could imagine him being a sweet thing once he was older, curious and playful as he was now. In her head, he would probably adhere to duty in a way Rhaenyra didn't want to. Why not simply put him forth and end all this concern?

Otto approached, bowing to his King. "The huntsman has the trail, Your Grace, and has sent out the hounds. It won't be long now until the white hart is cornered. Your prize is within reach."

"Sit, Daella," said Viserys as Otto did the same on the other side of him. Daella settled Aegon on her lap, facing toward her so he might rest his head against her.

"What do you make of Lord Jason's proposal?" asked the Hand.

Viserys didn't seem to like it. "That man's pride has pride."

"You're not only Rhaenyra's father, you're the King. She'll do as you command."

"It is not my wish to command her, Otto. I want her to be happy."

"If she is to be Queen," said Daella carefully, letting Aegon play with her braids, "she ought to marry a powerful ally for the Crown. Little as we all might like a Lannister, it is along those lines she needs to be thinking." Even if she disliked Jason, she might have considered him if she were the heir. If her father commanded it, she would see it done. That was what she was supposed to do.

Otto's eyes flickered between her and Viserys. "There is another choice beyond Casterly Rock. One, perhaps, you might be more comfortable with. One closer to home." He nodded to the boy in Daella's lap, and she frowned.

"Aegon?" said Daella in disbelief. "He's two. Rhaenyra is nearly eight-and-ten."

"Yes, Princess, but it would cease the endless proposals for Rhaenyra's hand. Betroth them."

"It simply wouldn't work," said Daella pensively as Viserys burst out laughing. "By the time Aegon is of age to have children... no, it is a horrid thing to imagine."

"Daella is quite right," said Viserys. "I came here to hunt. Not to be suffocated by all this fucking politicking."

Otto nodded, sitting back and relenting. "Let us speak no more of it. Your Grace, Princess." He nodded and took his leave. Daella watched him go, knowing he meant well. He was saving Rhaenyra the discomfort of marrying a man she clearly wouldn't like. Ensuring that if she was to remain heir, the mutterings of the Realm would be quieted by the fact Aegon would be King, even if King Consort. It was a strange thing to imagine, but not entirely stupid. But her father wouldn't see it that way.

Sometimes, in her talks with Otto, she got the sense her father didn't understand a lot of what he should be doing as King. It seemed like his reign was only prosperous because of Otto's advice. He saw things in a different way. In many ways, only Otto saw her.