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•❅───• . ➶ . ° . ✴ . ° . ➴. •───❅•
[ CHAPTER ONE ]
1.1 ━━ 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐍. It came almost natural to her, but, that was the thing about her, she was born with natural beauty and madness within her soul, she had loved to run around the gardens of Dragonstone, the ancient seat of her father's house, and so, as she stared at the firely, cooper-like flames, she smiled a small, charming smile to her half-brothers, the Princes Aenys and Maegor, the sons of the Queen Rhaenys and the Queen Visenya.
The flames arose as high as the tower in the distant Old Town, and as wide as the Wall in the far North, and they burned much brighter than the flame of the human-made fire, for the fire that had set the Septa Cela's chambers on fire was the fire of the dragon, the flames that had been breathed by the dragon of the Princess Daenys, the young dragon who's name had been Heartfyre, the Copper Flame.
"Daenys, what are you doing?"A soft voice startled her, and a loud crashing sound was heard, as a set of strong arms wrapped itself around herself.
"Aenys, get yourself and Maegor away from the flames."Their father, the King of all of Westeros, Aegon the Conqueror, yelled at his eldest child, while he himself held Daenys tightly in his hold, her body shaking with firely pits of anger and rage for the Septa. She will never forgive, and she will never forget, of the way that the Septa talked of her mother, for the insults fired upon the still-warm ashes of her late mother's funeral pyre.
"Daenys, my dearest sweet, what is the matter with you?"The all-mighty Conqueror whispered into her ear, hugging her firmly, as if he were trying to show her that she had his support in doing whatever she did, but that she had to explain herself first. That was the only rule that he had for his daughter. Always tell the truth and tell it all. It was the only way to make sure that he had absolute knowledge of her doings. And it was the only way to gain her trust, for the King loved his daughter greatly, and he valued her trust even more so.
"She was bold enough to insult my mother, and her Queen," were the only words that the young Princess Daenys Targaryen would utter to her father, for the remainder of the hour.
She looked so vibrant, and full of rage, it was told, that Aegon himself was afraid to touch her as she walked like a true Queen, around the halls of the castle, and that it was not untill the Prince Maegor, the son of Visenya the Warrior Queen, had dared to grab her and stop her, hugging her endlessly.
