Silver Princess || House of the Dragon

Chapter II ''Dragon Princess''

Almost half a year had passed since her mother's death, but Valaerya was still experiencing it and it was obvious how this situation affected the young Targaryen. Early on, she could often be found in the gardens, with her hair down, or perhaps in some uncomplicated bun, reading books in a light dress.

Now it was hard to find her in the castle at all. Usually from morning to evening she was outside the castle walls, in the Dragonpit. She didn't read as often anymore, although she could be find sitting on her dragon's paw, her back against it's side, reading something. However, she spent a lot more time in the sky now or on walks anywhere outside of the city at all, not caring that her father would disapprove of it.

Her dressing style has also changed significantly. She hasn't worn a dress since the day her mother died. She ordered to sew other, more... Practical clothes, something like those in which she flew on a dragon. Anyway, it were just two sets for riding these beasts that she wore, until more were made for her.

High boots, trousers and a long-sleeved shirt over which she put on a coat that, when buttoned up, resembled a dress and ended at the knee.
The way she put her hair up also changed — and since the maid could never suit her taste, she took care of it herself. Every morning she would sit in front of the mirror and first separate two thin strands that would be on the sides of her face. Then she would make braids around her head, which she then tied into a ponytail, connecting the braids with the rest of her unbraided hair.

This is how she dealt with the loss, completely changing her appearance, as if she cut herself off from what was, as if she was a completely different person.

It seemed that this day would be no different from any other. Already dressed, she was sitting in front of the mirror, finishing braiding her hair, when suddenly the door to her chamber opened. She sighed, quickly finishing her ponytail and getting up from the chair. She was ready to rebuke her guard for letting people in without knocking, but as soon as she walked into the main part of the chamber, she noticed that it was her father who had come to her.

"Father?" She said, drawing attention to herself.

"You didn't come to your mother's funeral." She didn't like the beginning of this conversation.

She frowned, not really knowing whyt he was saying this. That had been almost six months ago, why was he reminding her of that? Didn't he know she wouldn't make it there after what she'd seen? Stand by and watch them burn both her mother's and her brother's bodies?

"You just remembered about it now?" She asked in a slightly harsher tone than she had originally intended.

"And you weren't there when I declared your sister as an heir to the Iron Throne." He added, not taking his eyes off her. He looked... Worried, concerned about her behavior.

"Yes, so what?" She controlled her tone this time, bluntly saying she didn't want to have this conversation.

She didn't need anyone's sympathy, not after what she had seen and how she had come to terms with it. Besides, she guessed that her father had ordered Aemma's womb cut open to take out the baby, who died soon after anyway... If anyone was to blame for this whole tragedy, it was her father.

What was all this for, if Rhaenyra was named heir anyway? Why all this mania of having a son for? If it weren't for him, her mother would be here right now... And father wouldn't have to start thinking that it's time to remarry.

"You can't spend your days in the Dragonpit or in the sky." He said, stepping closer to her. He frowned, which only added to the concern on his face.

"I'm a Targaryen, so I'm close to dragons, what's strange about that?"