Gwayne's reply arrived.

The maester was out of breath as he handed the letter to her, right as she was boarding the ship for Driftmark. She'd never been so happy– the letter took several slips of parchment, which surely demonstrated the interest Ser Otto had been sure would be there.

_

Dear Princess Daella,

It pleases me to hear from you. Your penmanship is as beautiful as it was described to me by Alicent, who told me how Septa Marlow used your writing and your High Valyrian as an example for your sister.

I admit that when we were younger, I thought you pretty but could not bring myself to say so. It was not until my father informed me a year ago that you had wondered how I was that I began to think of you often, and admired you from afar, having been told that you'd grown even more beautiful with the years. I felt it unwise to say anything given my sister's relationship to you. I imagined it inappropriate and futile to nurse any thoughts given I'd come to reside in Oldtown and traveled far too much about the Reach. Yet my heart leapt when I received your letter, imagining a Princess paying me any mind at all.

I accept your wish for continued correspondence to remedy the fact I was not brave enough to speak with you sooner, or ask for your favor the day of the tourney. Perhaps I might not have been dragged through the dirt if I had; I'd have been gifted good fortune from the rider of The Bronze Fury. You should see how many in Oldtown speak of the girl who tamed Vermithor, a notoriously ferocious dragon. You may not think it, Princess, but I assure you there are many in the Realm who admire you.

I've not forgotten the stories my father shared after the late Queen's passing. He told me how much you cared for her, and it brought tears to my eyes as I was reminded of my own mother. She loved you very much, and always regretted that you and Alicent were not closer. She wished she'd been able to bear another girl, one that might be your friend and yours alone. I remember many times seeing you keep her company as well, when she grew ill. I've not forgotten it.

I find myself favoring cake as well. It may be forward, but I would be remiss if I did not ask which type is your favorite, so I might keep it in mind if it is ever necessary. I am well aware of the bargain you and your sister struck with your father to find a suitable husband you care for.

I do not wish to impose myself and assume I am worthy of it, but I wish you to know that I am not opposed to it. If our friendship through letters blossoms into something more, I will swear myself to you and only you, Princess, and I promise you that whether we reside in King's Landing or in Oldtown or wherever you prefer, I will make sure your days are pleasant and that you are always respected, as you should have been from the start. You may not have been born first but you are the first and only girl to win my heart.

With undying admiration,

Ser Gwayne Hightower

-

She showed it to Laena the moment they were alone. After all, Daella had no reason to be in the meeting that her father would have with Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys, nor did she want to disturb Rhaenyra and Laenor's first conversation since the betrothal.

Laena let out the loudest squeal upon finishing it. "This is ever so romantic! Gods, I still remember when you first mentioned how you thought him handsome. There are so many changes, this is becoming much to keep up with. Lord Strong as Hand, Rhaenyra and Laenor to marry, and you may soon wed, too! Perhaps I am far behind in this."

"It certainly is a lot at once," admitted Daella. "You may not be far behind us if you marry the Sealord's son, but gods,you would be so far away! I'd write to you daily but flying to Braavos would take much longer. You're meant to be near, where we can raise our children in close proximity, so they may be friends as we were."

"I do not wish to marry the Sealord's son," Laena said, scrunching up her nose. "I do not know if I would like Braavos. I like being near you and everyone... Laenor's going to live in the Red Keep, and I already miss him! We've never lived apart from one another." She took the letter again, smiling and falling back onto her bed. "I want a romance such as this. But where would such a man be for me?"

Daella laid down beside her. "Perhaps closer than you think. I did not imagine Gwayne and I might actually marry. It was all a childhood crush in those days... are there any boys here you'd like for a husband?"

She made a face, then the both of them laughed. "Any of Laenor's friends? Certainly not. No, I need someone who will understand me. Someone who won't be scared of Vhagar. If I could, I'd want someone who was a dragonrider as well. Alas, there are so few of us now. Now that I think of dragonriders... I heard your uncle got Rhaenyra in quite some trouble. And he's got trouble of his own now."

"Oh, yes, that cunt. He could have tarnished Rhaenyra's name severely. My father sent him back to the Vale to tend to that lady wife he hates. I was told she passed... some hunting mishap, they say. Thrown from her horse, neck and skull crushed, she agonized for days before it claimed her. Daemon arrived once she was already unconscious... some believe he willed her to give up the fight. Or finished her off."

"Poor Rhea Royce," sighed Laena. "To die doing what one loves... there is beauty in that, though there is also tragedy. I do not know what about her he didn't like. I heard she was pretty. Your uncle has quite the standard. I suppose it makes sense, he is a Targaryen prince and so handsome..."

Daella propped herself up on her arm, narrowing her eyes at Laena. "Do you fancy him?" Her eyes widened when she saw Laena blush. "How? Why–? How did I know know about this?!"

"I didn't know how to explain it!" said Laena. "He was here so often before they went to fight in the Stepstones, I only admired him from afar... then they came back not long ago, his hair was cut, he showed Laenor and I some new scars, and I thought... he looked so dashing. Laenor told me about his bravery during the battle, how he ran past arrows and cut down every man in his path to reach that Crabfeeder."

Well, it made sense why someone like that would appeal to Laena. She did like someone with fire in them– she wouldn't be satisfied with someone quiet and dull, someone with any sort of fear. Not that Daella thought that Daemon was in any way a good person for her to desire... still, she had to be supportive of her friend. It was unlikely to happen, anyway. Knowing Daemon, he might have a son somewhere out there, and perhaps that boy would claim a dragon and be a much better man for Laena.

"I suppose if you married him," posed Daella, "you could live here or on Dragonstone or in the Red Keep. Somewhere close by, because goodness knows that Daemon wants to be near my father." He is terrible at being a brother, however.

"I'd love to be near you, always." Laena leaned over to hug her. "It is a shame Daemon won't be invited to Rhaenyra and Laenor's wedding. Your father would not allow it." You'd be surprised what my father allows, Laena. "Will you have a grand wedding when you marry Gwayne? If you did, would you be willing to invite Daemon, for my sake?"

Daella couldn't help but smile. "For your sake, he would receive a personalized invitation. I do not know if I wish for a grand wedding... I believe I might prefer it to be a small affair. I don't like tourneys and a feast can happen all the same with fewer people. I especially do not want a bedding ceremony, I want it to be only him and I finally enjoying ourselves..." She smirked when Laena wiggled her brows. "Gods, do not tease me."

"I cannot help it! I am still quite offended you told Laenor about your curiosities before you told me."

"You weren't even thirteen yet, Laena, how could I possibly tell you? It was so bizarre to suddenly have those feelings. They are difficult to contain. That curiosity, it is intoxicating. You're old enough to understand that now." She almost grimaced, imagining Laena feeling those things for Daemon the way Daella sometimes felt for the handsome knights around the castle. "I cannot wait to know what it is like, I've been patient, I swear, but I want to have that sort of fun with Gwayne!"

Laena winked, "The sooner you wed, the sooner you bed, dear cousin." She wiggled away as Daella tried to pinch her cheek. "Surely you'll want a large wedding after you see the grand affair that Rhaenyra and Laenor's wedding is sure to be."

"I doubt it. None in the court have ever made a big fuss about anything concerning me. Why should they now? Besides, given Gwayne's reply, I may end up wedding him before Rhaenyra's wedding... that'll take months to plan and execute."

Her cousin perked up, eyes wide. "Then there is no reason to wait, Daella! You ought to write to Ser Gwayne immediately. Tell him what you think, then tell Rhaenyra– now that your father isn't upset with her, she may be able to smooth him over and encourage him to support you in your wedding first! Where would it be? Vhagar and I will fly there at once!"

Daella smiled, genuinely excited. "I'd love to wed in the Starry Sept where Aegon was crowned. It would be in Oldtown, Ser Gwayne's family could attend." Otto will be back there by the time this can happen, and then I can at least see him. It was odd how much she missed him already.

Laena fetched her a parchment and quill at once, giggling and begging her to write her reply right then and there to let her witness this 'monumental' occasion. Gods, how Daella always laughed and smiled when she was with Laena. She wished they could have always lived together.

-

Dear Ser Gwayne,

You haven't the faintest idea how happy I have been since I received your letter. I am astounded at your penmanship as well! Your words move me, and I have clutched the letter close to my heart since it was given to me.

My heart aches now knowing that you are not near enough for me to visit just yet. And it jumps as yours does. You are the first to prefer me to my sister and you are the only one who has made me feel I am respected and admired.

I may be in Oldtown soon, if you may indulge me for a moment in what could be a very bizarre idea. It pains me that neither of our mothers will be present on the day either of us are wed. I've thought about it often, particularly because of what you've mentioned regarding the suitors I've had to see. I realize my mother would have wanted me to follow my heart if it were an option, to take my father's bargain as soon as I am sure I've met the man I wish to marry. Your mother was very dear to me as well, and I know that she would have raised a marvelous son.

I want our friendship to blossom into more, as you've said. I don't wish to wait. I can feel my destiny calling out to me and it tells me that you and I would be happy together. I will speak to my sister and my father shortly. If you are in agreement, I would like a small wedding in the Starry Sept of Oldtown. I would like to stay in Oldtown for some time, and perhaps we might return to live at the Red Keep together when my sister's wedding happens. I will have Vermithor to take us wherever we please; I cannot wait to introduce you to him.

Please let me know what you think. I look forward to hearing from you, Ser Gwayne. If you agree, I would like apple cake for our feast!

Yours,

Daella

_

She waited until the following morning to tell Rhaenyra, after she'd had the opportunity to settle into this new relationship with Laenor. Daella had gone to seen him, too, to congratulate him. She noticed a slight lack of excitement, but knew that was to be expected– she hoped, at least, that Rhaenyra would be a good wife to him.

Rhaenyra had been stunned when Daella told her about Gwayne's reply and hers to him. Laena had seen it all, and Laenor already knew– Daella considered that perhaps her sister's slow blinking at her had to do with the fact she hadn't been the first to know. Her sister apologized hastily then quickly began to explain that it was to be a small affair– Daella would ask Laenor and Laena to fly with them to Oldtown for the wedding, then everyone could return to their homes while Rhaenyra's wedding approached. Daella would have time to explore Oldtown, and perhaps might have some good news to share in time for her sister's nuptials.

(A part of Rhaenyra envied her sister in that moment. She'd envied her for so long. Daella had always been their mother's favorite, because she rarely got into trouble. Rhaenyra had seen it, felt it. Her mother had loved her, that she was sure of, but she remembered her soft voice, 'Don't dirty your dress, sit still like Daella.' How she used to encourage her to write like Daella, sew like Daella, speak High Valyrian like Daella. Though her little sister had quite the temper when they were younger, she'd never been scolded quite so much as Rhaenyra.

She even envied that Daella could make this choice now. She could marry Ser Gwayne, just like that. She could marry for happiness, without the weight of a crown already hanging on her head. The letter, it sounded so romantic. Rhaenyra would not have that from Laenor or anyone so openly. Her father had scolded her so after her return from the Stormlands, 'Why couldn't you try to find a husband, as Daella did? She gave them a chance.' Daella, Daella, Daella, now about to be happily married.

Their father was unwell when they returned to King's Landing. He knew already about Daella's wishes, and didn't have the strength to argue. He wanted her to be happy, he wanted her to be wed. When Rhaenyra had gone to see him, he'd told her at once that he was glad Daella had come to a decision on her own. He emphasized that, Rhaenyra noticed. Then, he asked her to write the letter on his behalf, to ask the High Septon of the Faith to preside over the ceremony and abide by Daella's wishes for the procedure.

Rhaenyra wrote. She watched her scrawl form on the parchment and was reminded that Daella's had always been prettier, every septa had always said so. She tried her hardest to mimic it, thinking of how Daella would write out her curvy little name and Gwayne Hightower's. It made her smile for a moment– she remembered the conversation that she and Daella had had when Alicent's betrothal was announced, the day Rhaenyra took Daella to claim Vermithor.

"How would she like it if one of us wed her father?" Daella had spat. "How would she like to feel this humiliated at court, as lords watch us cleave to a girl our age as a stepmother?"

Rhaenyra had found it funny. "One of us, wedding Otto Hightower?" She started to giggle, then fully laugh. "Forgive me, I... I have not found something so amusing in quite some time."

Daella's smile had been lopsided, as if she'd been holding back a laugh. Then, she giggled, "It is quite silly to hink of. Otto is so old. I cannot imagine being Alicent's stepmother."

Rhaenyra smiled to herself, having a silly idea. She finished the letter and had her father sign it, but before sealing it, modified a part of it. She'd wait for Daella to find out so they might have a good laugh then set the record straight for the High Septon– after all, they had more than enough time before the wedding. Daella wanted at least a month to prepare her dress. The High Septon would reply by week's end, surely.

It would be a harmless prank, one that Daella would enjoy; she loved pranks as a child. No one would be hurt by it.)

_

Gwayne's reply came by week's end, confirming that which Daella already knew he would say. He was excited for their wedding, honored to be considered for her husband, and glad that she'd wanted to wed in the Starry Sept. He'd written to her about how his mother used to take him there everyday as a boy, how he still went there when he was in Oldtown for prayer. He followed the Seven closely, and believed it fitting that they would bless their union in such a sacred place.

She'd gotten to work on her dress at once. First, she'd asked Rhaenyra if she intended to wear her mother's dress for her own wedding. It seemed that Rhaenyra would be having a dress made for her, which left Daella free to take the dress that their lovely mother had worn when she wed their father, having been so young.

Daella had never grown as tall as Rhaenyra, nor had her bosom been as round as her sister's. The dress would need very few modifications to fit her, and would take only a week after the seamstress measured her out. Words could not express how much it meant for Daella to wear the dress, to feel as though her mother was there hugging her and giving her away to her new husband.

It would be strange to reach such a point in life and not have her guidance. Daella's heart still ached when she thought too long and hard about the fact her mother would not be there to guide her through pregnancy, or hold her hand as she gave birth. Her mother wouldn't meet her grandchildren, wouldn't play with them. Daella's sons and daughters wouldn't know her gentle presence or feel the softness of her hands.

At the very least, she could think of her mother watching her from the afterlife with approval. When Otto's family had first come to the Red Keep, Alicent's mother had been one of her companions. She'd tended to Aemma during her earlier pregnancies. Queen Aemma had known young Gwayne, and had known very well that Daella had grown to have a crush on him. Daella missed her mother's smile... she'd surely smile to know her daughter's dream came true.

"You look beautiful." Daella turned, surprised to see Alicent in her room. The door had been left open as the seamstress and her attendants drifted in and out, adding final touches to the gown. Daella had had them add blue, red, and green beads and thread at the sleeves and at the bottom of the skirt, to honor her parents and Gwayne's– houses Arryn and Florent were blue, House Targaryen red, and House Hightower green, a beautiful and colorful union.

Daella smoothed her hands down the sides of the dress, awkwardly greeting her, "Your Grace. Forgive me, I did not expect you." She hadn't spoken much to Alicent since that day she came looking to clear the air about Rhaenyra. The Queen hadn't been all too happy with her father's departure– she seemed more lonely now, and Rhaenyra had been busy... perhaps also keeping her distance, considering what had happened.

"Truth be told, I did not expect to come here." Alicent closed the door, which Daella found surprising. "I've heard more troubling news about Rhaenyra. I wished to discuss it with you before we leave for Oldtown." She smiled weakly, beckoning Daella to come and sit. Lifting her skirt, Daella slowly joined her by the window. "Your mother's dress suits you. I am sure my brother will faint when he sees you."

She blushed. "I would hope not. I cannot marry an unconscious man. What is it, my Queen?"

Alicent looked at her hands, beginning to tear up. "Forgive me... you are the only one I can trust."

That was concerning. Alicent had never trusted Daella so much in their entire lives, and suddenly this was happening again. She couldn't remember Alicent ever going to Daella before she went to Rhaenyra about something– she remembered how those two used to gossip and exclude her. She couldn't recall a time that Alicent was so... vulnerable.

"When you were away at Driftmark, I spoke with Larys Strong," said Alicent. "He was worried the Princess had fallen ill the same night my father was dismissed. He told me Grand Maester Mellos delivered a tea to her chambers, by order of the King. The princess drank it."

Her stomach turned. She felt suspicion and anger all over again, that sense that something was wrong. "A tea..." Daella had a bad feeling what sort of tea would be given after such a rumor. "And this... this was after we spoke to her about the rumors regarding Daemon?"

"Yes. Rhaenyra she– she does not seem ill, didn't seem ill at all. And she swore to us nothing happened, but the tea..."

She needed to be sure, because if Rhaenyra had lied... gods, Daella was already beginning to see red, she could feel her fists tightening up, she felt herself flexing her arm to slide out a knife that was currently not beneath her sleeve. "You believe it was tansy tea?"

"I know it was tansy tea. I..." She turned away. "Oh, I wish it were not so. I have further proof of it. I... I summoned Ser Criston, to ask him about what he might have witnessed. What he told me instead... gods, Daella, you would not believe it, but I swear he said this to me... he broke his oath. He committed a sin with Rhaenyra at her instigation. He took her virtue. She lost her maidenhead that night, only not to Daemon."

Her head swam, and for a moment she heard only buzzing. Why would Ser Criston say such a thing if it were a lie? It was one thing to denounce a rumor from a source none of them knew anything about. But this was a witness. This was a confession.

A sin, a sin, Rhaenyra, Rhaenyra, how could she? Yet, Daella knew deep down... how could she not? This was Rhaenyra... Rhaenyra, who got away with everything. Rhaenyra, the golden child, Rhaenyra, the Realm's Delight, Rhaenyra, the Princess of Dragonstone. It wasn't fair, it wasn't fair, Daella hated this, she hated it, she hated her.

Red, she saw red, she saw blood red.