Maenya Targaryen.
Born in 96 AC,
The first child of Aemma and Viserys Targaryen,
All seemed well, Maenya was "The gem of the Kingdoms" her younger sister, Rhaenyra was " The realms delight" and her mother was pregnant again, this time with a boy
Al...
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Maenya POV:
The musician Josey Graines, was playing a melody over and over. It brought my comfort, a memory, a lullaby my mother used to sing to me.
I had spent all morning riding on Meraxes, she was alseep behind my whilst I sat on the grass, leaning my body against her, reading a book in Aegon's conquest, paying close attention to the parts where Meraxes and her only other rider, Rhaenys, one of the conquers, were mentioned.
We were all sat on the outskirts of the city, I was planning to go back afterwards but for the hunt, everyone will have to pass us anyway, father told me that they'll just pick my up on the way.
It was Aegon's second name day. My little brother a fussy but very cute and definitely loved attention.
I held no ill will against Alicent unlike Rhaenyra.
2 years ago-
Alicent had been walking around, acting, almost lifeless. Most people couldn't notice, but me someone who spent multiple hours with the girl could see right through the act that she was "fine" and "grateful"
Alicent was in the sept, praying almost every morning, as usual.
"Your grace" I said politely
She turned around and smiled, a forced smile, never reaching her ever sad eyes.
"Maenya, how are you?"
I took a deep breath, if I was wrong then it could get me in trouble with my father...
"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" I say carefully
She looked shocked "I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about?" She started to pick at her fingers
I sighed and lowered my voice so none of the nosy septas would hear.
"Alicent. You do not have to lie to me. Forgive me if I'm mistaken but you have seem low and defeated, maybe you don't act like it but you are and you have been so since the announcements that you would marry my father... As I said before, forgive me if I'm wrong, but I know that I would not be happy if I had to marry a man in his forties when I was a teen" I said sympathetically, reaching out to hold her hand.
"I...I am grateful that the king had chosen to marry me-"
She started to make up another lie. I cut her off.
