𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 have forsworn love. For love is not a possibility for the life they currently live, only a mere fairytale a mother would tells her young children. But for...
Nyrella wrapped her arms around her delicate frame as she stood in front of the giant window. The window was built of glass—polished and clear to see the alluring view of tidal waves crashing against the cliffs, where the castle stood. It was still dark outside, a mere two hours before dawn arrived. The sky was pitch black when she came, but as time flew by, the sky slowly colored itself a shade lighter. It was currently a dark gray along with a cluster of dark clouds illuminated by the moon's gleam. The ocean's surface glistened under the soft light as it moved, yet it was the only thing the bare eyes could spot. The ocean was not blue and crystal as they are in the daytime, but was endless and void—dark enough to eat any piercing light.
There was a cold chill that breezed through the empty drawing room. Nyrella hugged herself a little tighter, pulling the fabric of her thin shawl to cover like a blanket. It was not like her to wake up at such a time, but she could not sleep. She tried to, yet she constantly thrashing around the entire night, trying to find a comfort position on the soft mattress and silk sheets. There was no hope of sleeping now, so she decided to stay awake, waiting for her other company to do so as well. It would be hours before they did—most of them are not morning people.
"Ny? What are you doing here?" A tired voice croaked behind her. Nyrella jumped slightly in her place, turning sharply on her heels to spot the sudden intruder to her peaceful lone time.
Rhaegar was in his small clothes. His long elegant silver-blonde hair was disheveled like a crow's nest. He held a candle holder with his right hand, holding the warm light of the fire in front of him. He looked worn out, even though he was the first to turn in for the night. He always looked tired.
"You scared me," Nyrella said as she laid a hand over her heart. She felt another chill through the room, clinging to the thin shawl for warmth.
Rhaegar took the opportunity to stride forward, rubbing his eye with his other hand. "Couldn't sleep?" He asked her as he stopped in front of her.
She hummed a response. Close up, Nyrella noticed how dark and purple his eye bags were by the candle's light. It was worse than prior days. "You should go back to sleep, Reg. You have a long day ahead," she laid her hand on his elbow, rubbing soft circles.
"And you don't?" Rhaegar amused. His lips twitched upwards at the corners.
"All I will be doing is staying in the castle walls without any company, while you and the others go out to hunt for a few days," Nyrella remarked.
Rhaegar hummed, "Right. The Hunt." He had forgotten momentarily that later on the day, he and the rest of his companions would leave for a hunting trip. It was Jon's idea—a somewhat idea of a getaway. "Why don't you accompany us then?"
