The Dragon's Heart Is Mine || Geralt Targaryen

15 • AN ORANGE LETTER

While Rheanyra felt it's best to give Alicent space, after admitting to herself that she took things too far even though what she saw at the courtyard was beyond her imagination.

However, Rheanyra came to a conclusion that despite Geralt being her half brother, she's gradually getting attracted to him.

To which Geralt has no knowledge about.

••••••••••
7 moons later.

It's been a month, since Geralt's arrival at the Capital. He woke up this morning very energized, he stretched his hands and yawned, before throwing the sheets off his body.

Pushing himself out from his bed, he stretched futhur, cracking his knuckles, and breaking bones to circulate blood in his veins before proceeding to take a cup of wine

"Hmm." He sighs, emptying the wine down his parched throat, dropping the cup in a gentle thud and then proceeds to take a cup to water to balance his immune system.

He turns to side and strides to his balcony, opening the metallic shuttles as the fresh air swept past the curtains, brushing his skin and long silver white hair billowing in a wave on his shoulders.

It was daybreak and the birds cawed in the sky, flying rapidly hither and thither.

Noises could be heard around King's Landing, every corner of the capital hollows, haggles, creaking sounds and neighs of horses.

Narrowing his eyes intentionally, Geralt could see the seaport of the White Harbour as pigeons flew around the fish markets, while ships sailed from East, West North and South, away from the Crownlands.

He even sighted the coast of Black Water Bay, as the waves splashed the rocks mercilessly and then finally his gaze drifted to DragonStone.

Only the heir dwelled there and surely Daemon might be there.

Since his arrival, he hasn't seen eye to eye with his uncle, maybe he must be busy with the City Watch duties as their Lord Commander or elsewhere buying out brothels, as he's heard the gossips in the Red Keep if his uncle's promiscuous affairs.

Geralt wondered why Daemon never accepted Lady Rhea Rocye as his wife, leaving her casted aside, soiling his union with the whores on the Streets of Silk.

Besides who was he to judge? He casted Yennefer aside on the acts of immorality. Fair enough.

"Women are all the same."  He eyes the city, before going back into his chambers to see manservants and handmaids going hither and thither rearranging and tidying up his chamber.

"Good morrow my prince." They curtly bows deeply, lowering their gaze, daring not to look at his face.

Geralt looks at them casually, he didn't like seeing too many people in his environment.

" You may continue." He gestures as everyone dashed back to their duty: changing the sheets, the beddings, clearing the table, dusting the tapestries, cleaning the flower vases and other artifacts, wardrobes and shelves in his room.

Some handmaids were taking out his dirty clothes and sheets, Geralt took off his shirt and dropped it in the basket while they walked past him.

The two handmaids swallowed hard and curtly bow before leaving his chambers as they whispers in the hallways, giggling dreamily.

Geralt went on to lean at a corner without wearing a cloth, leaving his chest bare open while he folds his arms over, watching them clean his room.

Geralt may have not noticed, but the handmaids kept stealing glances at him, drinking in his is masculinity and his sexiness, the Prince was indeed ravishing.