Donna ────── R. Targaryen

V

"What?"

"You were looking so downtrodden earlier, so gloomy." Malkym shrugged. "I am glad that I made you smile."

"I needed it."

"What is the issue now?" Malkym rolled his eyes, settling back beside her. On instinct, her arm hooked through his. "You always seem to be in the thick of something or other. Who has caused issues?"

"Who has not? The Small Council has no respect for me." Rhaenyra replied, shaking her head as she tightened her grip on him. "It has been half a year since my mother died, and already they try to marry my father off and replace me as heir. I know men and how they plot in their secret meetings when they send me away to do menial tasks like picking a new Kingsguard member."

"I would not call that menial-"

"Malkym!"

"Sorry, sorry." Malkym grinned sheepishly at the girl. "But you cannot worry about their wagging tongues. There is nothing that you can do on that matter except prove that you are the far more worthy heir. It is common knowledge that you are. Who is the other choice? Prince Daemon?"

Malkym scoffed at the notion, causing Rhaenyra to sigh.

"And even if your father were to remarry, would he have any other heirs?" Malkym turned to look down at the smaller girl, who's nose was scrunched in annoyance. "He loves you dearly, I doubt he would want to make that sort of choice."

"He did not even choose me, Malkym, he merely used me as a device to spurn Daemon." The pair walked through the corridors slowly, with no particular destination in mind, just content to be speaking with the other. "I am already fed up with this."

"Imagine what it will be like when you become queen." Malkym muttered, before winking at her. "All the more people to lie and attempt to stab you in the back."

"Are you about to tell me that you have been lying to me? If so, regardless of the favour, I will set Syrax on you." Rhaenyra hissed, not wishing to believe that Malkym would do such a thing.

"I am not a good liar, Your Grace." Malkym admitted.

"That is what a good liar would say." Rhaenyra smiled at the man, who sighed, knowing that he could not disprove her thoughts. "I just do not wish to be displaced the moment that my father remarries."

"Maybe it is time you speak with your father about all of this." Malkym suggested with a shrug. "He might be able to help ease your worries, about all that is going on."

"Perhaps. Your idea holds merit."

"Thank you." Malkym grinned. "I am known to have good ideas at rare points."

✧✦✧

"Up." Malkym brought his sword further up, before turning to slam the sword against the back of his uncle's knees, yet the man only slightly stumbled. "Good, good."

Ser Rickard nodded his head. He twisted, turning to attempt to smack the younger Thorne, who jumped backwards quickly to avoid it. He landed on his feet, ducking low, to twist and bring the man down, pulling a dagger free to press against the throat of the man.

"I win." Malkym grinned, before looking up at the now dark sky. It was late, they had been training for hours.

"We shall make a knight of you yet." Rickard patted Malkym's head, pushing the man's hand away as he stood. "I must admit, I was worried when your father sent you to me."

"Why?"

"I feared that you were useless." Rickard teased as Malkym scoffed and unbuckled his armour. "Your father made me worry that you could not fight, but I find you are more proficient that I believed. Better than a lot of knights that I train. You would make a fine member of the Kingsguard."