Part Two - The Princess Paramount's Wedding (7)
Otto was furious to hear Viserys had apparently left Dragon Den with his daughter and without his Kingsguards. What if the wench tried to manipulate him to disinherit his grandsons in favor of her like what they did to her years ago?
“This is negligence of the highest order!” He snarled at the Commander of the Kingsguard, Ser Harold Westerling, who doesn’t seem too concerned with his King’s disappearance. Perhaps his daughter’s persistent suggestions of changing the Commander to someone they could trust like Ser Criston Cole might have some merit after all.
“The King insisted on following the princess in her inspection, Lord Hand, despite us trying to remind him it is unsafe with his Kingsguard.” Ser Harrold replied calmly. “Ser Aemon Celtigar, the Princess’s sworn shield, had taken Ser Steffon Darklyn to join the King and the Princess on one of the islands to guard them.”
Otto rudely dismissed the knight as he stared out the window of his rather plain bedchamber, staring in avarice at the flight of dragon hatchlings flying past the castle. His spies still haven’t figured where the damned Targaryen hid the eggs but there are vast potentials of the princes bonding with the hatchlings seen flying freely around the islands.
Yes, he would make sure there would be a chance for the princes to bond with the dragons during this visit.
Viserys couldn’t help the stab of envy he felt as he watched his daughter talk to the populace so easily, accepting their love and affection so easily.
They were currently on another island, one judging from the forges, handles all kinds of smithworks for the island. His daughter was currently carrying a basket of food she had purchased from a nearby market, a bewildering experience the King had never experienced as he had never mingled with the populace before, especially one that ignored him for his daughter.
Watching as Rhaenyra scolding the shopkeepers for trying to sell their food so cheaply (he is confused that his daughter would reject free offering from the adoring crowds) and sharing the fresh buns to the street urchins, he couldn’t help but wondered how at ease his daughter was, especially without her protection.
As Viserys thought of this, another urchin stepped up to his daughter, but unlike the others, the lame child tugged at her skirt and grinned up at the princess.
Much to his surprised horror, Rhaenyra set her basket down before reaching down to apparently carry the boy, balancing him on her right hip as she carried the basket again, nodding as she listened to the boy’s bright chatter.
“-figured out the combination of salt and copper to turn the colour of fire today! It’s very scientific!”
“And why is Ollie trying to figure out how to change the color of fire?” She asked in amusement as the child tucked his head against her neck, giggling loudly.
“Rhaenyra!” Rhaenyra stopped and stared at the King as he stormed up to them. “Put down that child!” She had to turn away to stop Viserys from ripping Kriss from her arms.
“Father, what are you doing?” She said furiously as people stopped and watched in confusion at the old man accosting their princess and one of Stepstones beloved children.
“Me? What are you doing? Put down that urchin at once!”
Rhaenyra blinked before turning to the child she was holding, staring at him thoughtfully before pulling out a handkerchief and began rubbing the coal marks on his cheeks. “Have you been playing around with Ollie's experiment again?” She asked exasperatedly. “You know we kept telling you it’s too dangerous for you.”
“No!” He whined loudly as he tried to duck from her ministrations. “I was helping Ollie with marking his project, that’s all.”
“And get coal all over your face and hands?” She tsked loudly.
“Rhaenyra, I’m talking to you!” Viserys huffed loudly, angry that his daughter was ignoring him for a beggar.
She sighed before turning to the king. “Father, I am not ignoring you. This is Kriss, a boy Cousin Olyvar helped raise with his friend.” She set the boy down, who gave him a curious look and a bow, his still dirty hand still holding Rhaenyra’s skirt.
“Why would he need to raise an orphan? If he wants children, surely I can find a suitable bride for him in Kingslanding.” Behind Viserys, people hissed in anger, how dare this interloper tries to steal their beloved prince?!
(Olyvar, working on an iron cage for his secret project, promptly sneezed.)
Rhaenyra's sweet smile was poisonous as she turned to her father. “Like what you did for me when you sent Gwayne Hightower to court me?” Mentally she asked Rhaella for forgiveness, her aunt had adamantly reminded her not to pick a fight with the King, but Rhaenyra was tired (even though he was just there for a full day).
Viserys gaped as Rhaenyra turned her back to him and continued talking to the child.
“Nyra.” One of the smiths stepped away from his forge and to his horror, Viserys watched as the tall man slipped his dirty arm around his daughter’s shoulder, picking up the boy into his arms and dragged both of them away. “Just the princess I was looking for.”
“Eds, I’m the only princess you know.” Rhaenyra laughed instead of not pushing the man away, Kriss giggling to their antics.
He shrugged, “There’s princess Rhaella. I finished your commission, by the way.”
“Wonderful! Show me!” Rhaenyra bounced up and down in delight, she had seen the designs Olyvar had made for her and she was eager to see the end result. She nods to her Scarlet Shadow and Ser Steffon Darklyn who were waiting by the forge, subtly signaling the former to have the latter to escort the King back to Moonstone. Aemon bowed and immediately ushered them away, ignoring Viserys’s loud complaints.
Be nice, be nice. Alicent thought to herself as she and her entourage along with the ladies of the Royal Court entered Princess Rhaella’s solar. The former septa (Alicent thought it was an outrage the woman had the audacity to leave her vocation but then again she is a Targaryen) was talking to the Velaryon wench who was Rhaenyra’s ladies in waiting, fabrics and papers were strewn around.
“Your Grace.” Rhaella nodded at her politely, but not rising from her chair. “Forgive me for not rising from my chair but my knees these days…” She trailed off, shrugging.
Alicent smiled sweetly as she took the seat vacated by one of the ladies by the princess. “No harm, Your Highness. I do understand the ailment of old age. I was told you were preparing for the princess’s wedding and I thought of volunteering myself and my ladies to your work.”
The princess smiled in confusion. “Oh, well, we are actually done with our work on that for the day. But do join us, there a merchant from Matarys just arrived with Matarys laces and Maroq silks if you want to see the samples with us.” She gestured at the laden table in front of them.
Even Alicent couldn’t suppress her delight at the beautiful laceworks and painted silks laid in front of her, having never seen such bounty ever shown in Kingslanding.
Delicately tracing one of the delicate laces, She couldn’t help but wonder how the princess paid for such riches. She must be bankrupting the poor kingdom for her fine fashion sense, she mentally sneered while pondering if she should buy the laces for herself, making her the envy of the Seven Kingdoms.
“Will the princess not join us?” Alicent wondered out loud absentmindedly as she gestured at one of the ladies to pass over the beautiful green and white printed silk she was eyeing. This would make a splendid evening gown, one would surpass that whore Mysaria. "And here I thought she would be thankful to spend sometime with me, her stepmother before her wedding."
“Rhaenyra? Oh she’s busy with work, poor child. In fact, I heard Viserys joined her for one of her tours today.” Rhaella replied with the same absentminded manner, marking a bolt of silk for purchase, one she intends to give to Rowena. Not that Rhaenyra would spend time with you, you spoiled child, Rhaella thought uncharitably, unhappy how the Hightower Queen sought to hog all the best bolts for herself. She much rather go hide in the mines than pandering to you.
Beside her, Alicent froze in shocked horror.
Alicent, having left the solar with scant information and a load of purchases, stomped her way to her father’s room. But before she could say anything as she entered the bedroom, she saw, much to her surprise, the King was ranting rapidly at Otto.
“-cavorting with peasants with no care for her own safety!! And letting commoners talk to her like they are equals!! I don’t know where I went wrong with the child! It must be because of the prolonged exposure to Daemon and Uncle Vaegon!! I like it not, Otto!”
(Simultaneously, in two different places, both Vaegon and Daemon sneezed.)
“Now, Viserys,” Otto tried to placate him. “It is good we caught this problem early. I’m sure we can mitigate it with the right people to guide her.”
“Oh, can’t she grow up demure and graceful like Alicent?” Viserys bemoaned.
Alicent, realizing the opening, quickly jumped in to comment. “Oh, Viserys, I grew up with septas that guided my way in accordance with the teaching of the Mother and the Maiden. Princess Rhaenyra meanwhile, bless the child, barely had anyone to guide her. Why, she planned to eschew the Seven for her wedding, married only under the Valyrian Gods and the Old Gods. What would the people of Westeros think, the Princess marrying under heathen gods?”
Viserys gasped in horror as the Hightower father and daughter duo continued to whisper poison into his ears.