Rogue | Daemon&Rhaenyra

14

The dark and gloomy night skies transform into a dark and gloomy morning, bringing about a new day for the crown to set sail, and a new day for Rhaenyra to sneak into the bastard girl's chambers. Saerra is still fast asleep in her bed as Rhaenyra giggles in delight, her feet gently padding against the cool floor as she rushes to the bed. The princess hops in next to the girl, only to kiss her cheek and whisper in her ear.

Saerra jumps awake, startled by the sudden contact, where her heart skips a beat as her eyes settle on Rhaenyra.

" My princess," Saerra gulps, " I, um... what are you doing here?"

" I came to see you," Rhaenyra smiles, then leans in to kiss her soft lips, " Last night was rather fun."

" Twas," Saerra nods in agreement.

" I think we should do it again," The princess proposes as she grabs the girl's hands, " Come with me to Driftmark. We shall have a nice big room all to ourselves."

Saerra's heart grows heavy at the mention of her old home. The place she spent the first years of her life has brought her nothing but pain and suffering, which is why she has no choice but to decline the proposal.

" I'm sorry," Saerra utters as she pulls her hands away, " But I can't."

Rhaenyra continues on the journey to Driftmark with a pout on her face. She's able to be there with Ser Criston, yet it brings her just a fraction of the joy that Saerra does.

The storm runs across the land and sea, drowning the Red Keep in the rain as Saerra sits at her windowsill, looking out at the city as her mind goes blank. Not a thought nor care in the world as she sits perched all by her lonesome. Down below, her eyes happen to come across the queen trudging through the mud as she says goodbye to her father, though it means little to Saerra's melancholy mind.

A sigh escapes her lips as her heart tightens in her chest. She misses the warm embrace she's grown accustomed to. Her body yearns for an embrace, from Rhaenyra or Daemon it matters not... or perhaps all that matters is having them both. Perhaps that is what's missing from her life... both of them.

Prince Daemon is supposedly back in the Vale with his wife.

And Princess Rhaenyra is across the bay with her future husband.

Leaving Saerra Salt all alone within the walls of the Red Keep.

The very next day, when the crown returns to the castle, the king takes one step out of the royal carriage and falls flat on his face, serving as a reminder to all of his failing health. He's cared for by the maesters, but even they cannot make a broken man whole.

But he has such little time to care, for nearly the entire realm is on the way to King's Landing in order to join together in the wedding celebrations. Days and days of feasts and parties to celebrate the union of House Targaryen and House Velaryon.

Even Saerra is welcome to join, and is gifted a dress to wear by the princess. It's delivered to her chambers by a servant with a note a top of it

𝒮𝑜 𝐼'𝓁𝓁 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒷𝑒𝒶𝓊𝓉𝒾𝒻𝓊𝓁 𝓉𝑜 𝓁𝑜𝑜𝓀 𝒶𝓉.

Saerra blushes at the note, and kindly protests against the servant's help in favor of dressing herself. The dress is blood red and velvety soft. It contains gorgeous gold detailing and hangs off her soft shoulders. She looks in the mirror as she styles her black hair, half up and half down. A gentle puff of air escapes her lips as she begins walking down the hall, listening as the air gets more and more full and vibrant. She passes through the threshold of the Great Hall, suddenly unaware that she belongs to no house and has no place to sit. She's stuck and unmoveable, eyes scanning the room in an attempt to find an empty chair, only for a hand to wrap around her arm and pull her to the side so she won't get trampled by the incoming house.