The lost Targaryen

Chapter 9

Pov maerya
3 weeks later
Hidden amidst the crowd, Maerya observed as Mace Tyrell escorted Margeary Tyrell to meet King Joffrey. She carefully kept herself concealed, trying desperately not to attract the attention of anyone who could potentially inform the king of her presence.

Maerya was keenly observant, watching the scene unfolding before her. She desperately longed for a moment to talk to Margeary, but the timing was less than ideal. She could only hope that an opportunity would present itself soon, so she could address her concerns directly with the bride-to-be.

King Joffrey delicately placed his cloak over Margearys shoulders, as they stood together in the center of attention. His voice rang out clear, proclaiming the union before all present. "Let it be known," he declared, "that Margeary of House Tyrell and Joffrey of the houses Lannister and Baratheon are one heart, one flesh, one soul." His tone grew more commanding as he continued, his words carrying an aura of authority, "Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder"
From maerya  vantage point in the crowd, Maerya clenched her fists in frustration, her thoughts filled with annoyance at the scene unfolding before her. "That little monster doesn't deserve her," she mused silently, her expression grim as she observed Joffrey and Margeary standing together.

As Joffrey spoke the customary words, his lips meeting Margearys in a quick kiss that sealed the union, the crowd erupted in applause. Maerya, however, stood apart, her expression stoic as she watched the spectacle unfold. Margeary's eyes wandered across the crowd, fixing upon Maerya's stern figure.

Maerya's lips curved into a faint smile as Margeary's gaze landed upon her, but the confusion etched across the bride-to-be's face mirrored her own thoughts. Margeary's face betrayed a mixture of disbelief and bewilderment, her mind grappling with the sight of Maerya standing amongst the crowd, alive and present despite the rumors of her death.

In a secluded spot by the sea, Maerya found Margeary sitting alone on a rocky outcrop, her gaze fixed on the endless expanse of water. With a warm smile, Maerya approached her, breaking the silence with a lighthearted remark, "What does a just-married queen do, sitting alone by the sea?"Margeary whipped her head around, tears of disbelief welling up in her eyes as she caught sight of Maerya. Without hesitation, she dashed forward, enveloping her in a tight embrace, her arms trembling as she held onto her friend. "I thought you were dead," Margeary whispered, her voice choked with emotion.

"I'm not," Maerya replied, a soft laugh escaping her lips. Margeary's words hung in the air, echoing the rumors that had spread like wildfire through the realm. "How?" Margeary continued, her voice tinged with disbelief. "Lord Frey said you were dead, killed by a cut to the throat" Maerya's voice grew softer as she reminisced, a hint of sadness in her tone. "Once upon a time," she began, "I had a sweet husband, and he hired a witch to grant me a life forever." The revelation lingered in the air, its weight adding a new dimension to Maerya's existence.

Margeary's words hung in the air, her curiosity piqued by Maerya's enigmatic response. "You never talked about him," Margeary pointed out gently. Maerya's reply was measured, her voice tinged with a hint of melancholy. "I have my reasons," she said quietly, her gaze dropping to the ground, as if remembering a past that still haunted her.

Tears welled up in Margeary's eyes as she clasped Maerya's hands in her own, the weight of their separation weighing heavily on her heart. Her voice trembled as she spoke, "I missed you, sweet sister" Maerya smiled softly at Margeary's words, a pang of guilt stirring within her. "We are not sisters," she replied, her voice laced with resignation. Margeary persisted, her voice unwavering. "Blood does not matter," she affirmed, her eyes meeting Maerya's gaze with a unwavering determination. "I will always see you as my sister"

Margeary cocked her head curiously, a mixture of awe and disbelief in her eyes as she took in Maerya's revelation. "But since you can't die," she pondered, "how long have you been alive?" Maerya chuckled softly, her laughter carrying a touch of irony. "Uh, pretty long time," she responded, her tone tinged with a hint of mystery.

" who was your mother?" A pang of sorrow briefly flashed in Maerya's eyes as Margeary's question about her mother brought back memories of her tumultuous past. Her smile, though genuine, was tinged with a touch of wistfulness. "My mother...well, it's a complicated story," Maerya began, her voice carrying a hint of hesitancy. "She was Rhaenyra Targaryen."

Margeary couldn't help but laugh at the realization of Maerya's age, her amusement evident in her voice. "You are old," she teased, unable to contain her chuckles, Maerya joined in the laughter, her own amusement blending with Margeary's "I am, aren't I?" she echoed, nodding in agreement "Will you stay for the wedding?" requested Margeary, a hopeful tone in her voice. Maerya's immediate response began with a soft reluctance, "I don't think—" But before she could finish, Margeary cut her off, her determination evident. "I'll talk with the king. You'll be okay," Margeary reassured her, her words ringing with confidence.

Maerya sighed, her resistance crumbling under Margeary's enthusiasm. "Fine," she acquiesced, a reluctant smile playing on her lips. Margeary's eyes lit up at her agreement, her excitement palpable. "Great!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with anticipation.

"Nana said it will be amazing," Margeary continued, Maerya chuckled softly in response. "Did she?" she replied, a note of skepticism laced in her voice , Margeary's nod affirmed her excitement, her voice brimming with genuine eagerness. "Can't wait," Maerya echoed, unable to hide a touch of genuine anticipation in her tone. She genuinely felt happy for her friend's big day, despite her own reservations about the wedding and its participants.