For almost her entire life, Daella Targaryen has lived as Mellara Rivers, the bastard daughter of Arnold Arryn and cupbearer of Lady Jeyne Arryn. First and trueborn daughter of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, Daella had but slight contact with her fami...
Daella scanned the note for the last time, decided that it was sufficient despite the situation being far from ideal, and looked over her shoulder in doubt again. Aemond was still fast asleep on his back, the fine features of his face illuminated by the candle she was holding. She bent down, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek, before quickly slipping from the room altogether.
The dark corridors, which she admittedly had not spent much time in for the last couple of weeks, sent a wave of memories crashing over her. From the very first time she had used them to escape her room, to the time Aemond had taken her to the brothel to get a book he had thrown in the fire only a short time afterwards. A soft smile came to her face at the thought and she had to clench down her jaws to prevent a chuckle from escaping.
Swiftly making her way through the gloomy halls, praying fiercely that she would not run into anybody, Daella escaped out of the Red Keep after a short stop in the kitchens. It took her the better part of the early night to arrive at the Dragonpit and by the time she had reached Vermithor and Silverwing's cave, the sky was pitch black. There was no moon with which Daella could determine the time and she would have to make do with the stars to offer her enough light during her ride.
"No, Vermithor," Daella said as the old dragon bumped his nose into the bag resting at her hip impatiently. She pushed his big face away and walked underneath him to undo the shackles chaining him to the cave. Letting out a grunt, she pulled the pins and watched with satisfaction as the heavy metal fell to the ground, repeating the same process with Silverwing.
"My Queen," one of the Shepherds said, causing Daella to turn so quickly that she felt the muscles in her back strain. The old man was bowing deeply, his beggars' clothes bungling loosely around his thin body. "Is it wise that you should go for a ride? Your coronation is on the morrow."
"It is especially wise that I should go for a ride now, to clear my mind," Daella returned, her voice respectful enough. "Shall I fall from my dragon this particular night then it must be the wish of the Gods and the people can call me Daella the Unfortunate. Do not waste the effort to run to the Red Keep, the King is informed of my absence."
