"Syrax is growing quickly" Alicent paused, folding her hands together as Rhaenyra neared. "In time she'll be as large as Caraxes or Vahaemion."
"She'll soon be large enough to saddle two" Rhaenyra pointed out.
"I'm rather content as a spectator, thank you."
"Always so proper" Maelor stated as he looped his arm around his cousin's neck, resting on her shoulders as she was much smaller than he was. Both girls were. "I expect nothing less of a Lady trained as diligently as you."
"Quit poking fun at my handmaiden" Rhaenyra hissed, slapping the elder boy's hands away from her before slipping into the carriage.
"Excuse her" Alicent laughed awkwardly as the younger girl ducked past her.
"Eh, perhaps she's right" Maelor paused, leaning forward to place his hand underneath her face, his thumb resting on her chin and prompting her head to tilt upwards. "I shouldn't jest at such a fine specimen."
As her cheeks grew a darker shade of red, Maelor chuckled and slipped past her, sitting at Rhaenyra's side. He threw his arm around the young girl once again and began to run his slender fingers through her white locks, her head cozying in the crook of his neck as the carriage began to move. Envy bubbled in the Hightower girl's stomach at the sight. It's where it all started, after all, the tale was as old as time itself.
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Two girls, practically sisters, both utterly and hopelessly in love with the same man.
This man was of noble birth, of course, with Prince Daemon as his father and Lady Rhea as his mother. He never quite grew into the signature Targaryen hair color, his mop remaining a rather light blonde color instead. His father could only rest assured that he was indeed his spawn when he turned ten years of age and a few of his light blonde strands began to turn over, the signature silver color peaking through. Now, at ten years and seven summers, Maelor never grew into the signature color. A few more strands turned silver as the years passed but he realized quickly he would never have a full head of Targaryen hair.
"I'm off to see my mother. Alicent, can I count on your company?"
"Of course my Princess."
"Cousin?"
"Unfortunately not, the council meets in a mere hour. I'll be in my chambers, boiling water calls my name and so does the scent of fresh linens" Maelor stated.
"Very well" Rhaenyra nodded.
"Enjoy your bath my Prince" Alicent bowed her head politely, fluttering her lashes at the older boy, before following Rhaenyra's steps.
