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↳ vi. SOULS CONSUMED IN FLAMES
SEASON 1
EPISODE 8: THE LORDS OF THE TIDE
—HOUSE OF THE DRAGON—
HEAVY IS THE CROWN
DRAGONSTONE
|| AMBER EYES DAWNED WITH BROWN SPECKLES LIKE STARS UPON THE NIGHT—GLARED THE MAN DOWN. Her nose flared outward with anticipation, corners of her eyes creased with concern— a roll of a scoff escapes the grasps of her lips. And whom may it be? Well only a man foolish enough to enrage the princess. One of a rather tall and stocky build. Only dauntingly towering over his half sister, hand resting lazily upon his swords hilt.
Vyselyra shoots him a glance of raw resentment, yet the bloke was quite unmoved by her unwavering gaze. It wasn't that she was expecting any other to commit such a thing other than her own brother.
Medrick, his brown locks interwoven with traces of red— a blend fairly reminiscent of their father. To any whom knew lord Desmond, Medrick could be easily mistaken for him. Chisel'd features only enhanced as a malicious grin slowly plays upon his thin lips. The eldest son stares back with those irritable, void, brown eyes—one's that bore bliss to some whilst others, it bore of ignorance.
With a brother came the typical teasing, which frankly drive her up a wall. He takes a small step forward before speaking, " Hello, dear little sister." His voice slithered with a playful tone. "Hello, dear brother," she's quick to double back—where her words barely escaped through clenched teeth.
His eyes having once fixed upon her, slowly glide as one from her over the right—to find Jacaerys standing mere inches behind her. The eldest Manderly boy's face slowly has a different tune fall upon—a mischievous grin cooks up to one side whilst an eyebrow raises to match on the other.
Just by a quick flick, noticing the features shift upon his perpetual face, she already knew of what was to come out spewing out. preferably one of his so called comical teasing.
"Looks like we found some old friends." he emphasizes quite clearly on drawing unneeded attention upon the last part. A subtle wink is casted to Vyselyra before scanning his attention towards Jacaerys. And oh, that just about made her lose her mind.
"Medrick , there are some days where I can't understand how you managed to escape being murdered on the daily with your useless stupid remarks." But Medrick only plays koi, with that same triumphant smirk.
" I believe that shall do it," Jacaerys voices his objection rather loudly, trying to bid Medrick from being murdered, "I have not seen you in quite a while Medrick. It is great.. to see you doing well and still up to no good." The Veleryon boy then holds his tongue vastly—a breath withheld deeply in his throat.
Medrick pouts a small hmfff, flaring his nostrils ever so slightly. Eyes bore upon the prince of Veleryon nobility. There's moment of icy silence shared between the trio with Medrick suddenly boasting forth a chuckle, " Aye the prince is right, it has been far too long." before his eyes flicker to Vyselyra's quite narrowing features.
Both sibling lock, seemingly crossed in a dance. Until her eye catches the famed rogue prince watching, standing like a daunting vulture upon its prey. Those eyes hidden beneath a darkness, one perhaps only so few understood. To be fair, Daemon to Vyselyra seemed as if he hadn't changed in those 8 years. He was still seemed the same man without morals and yet her mind then wondered to where Caraxes may have been—having always taken a liking to his dragon.
But she dare only linger for a moment as her sight returns promptly to Medrick— his brows arched to match her hardened look. Gritting her teeth, the young Targaryen takes a small step towards her dear brother, readying to speak of cruel truths until a hand is felt upon her shoulder. One strong yet holding a softness behind it. A slight squeeze with a voice follows—sending a tingling sensation of thousand sparks rushing through her body at once.
With a sharp inhale, the Manderly Princess peered gracefully over her shoulder. She can see the jagged expanse of Jacaerys's perfect smile—his honey eyes locked upon her. The prince takes a step closer, aligning himself adjacent to her.
And for just a subtle moment, her eyes flutter slowly as they fully focus upon his. A few rapid beats of the heart before the fizzy came back, barreling down to the very pit of her chest. Vyselyra quickly diverts her attention from him toward their respective parties. Her unwavering pride remains, reminding her of what had befallen years ago at the hands of his mother. She's prompt on Rolling his hand off her shoulder—taking a step closer to her brother. Whilst a coldness brews upon the surface of her prominent features.
Jacaerys merely clears his throat, awkwardly placing his arm back against his side. Before adjusting himself stout, cringing out the strain that held upon his neck. Medrick only passed fast glances between both—making it a obvious point to not heighten her gaze of daggers. Whilst Jacaerys showed no outwards signs, the prince was quite ataken back by her dismissal. So it seemed when he first saw her through the clouds of Dragonstone—- it was like all his dreams had come true, that the girl whom held his heart would return one day. And yet she did show herself, but it was nothing of what he expected.
" Vyselyra!" A voice beamed of poignant emotion from elsewhere in the proximity—of which the Manderly princess immediately directed her sight towards. The voice only belonging to the youngest Velaryon, daughter of the late Laena Velaryon. Once noticing that familiarity of bouncing curly locks, Vyselyra's eyes held a likeness upon them. "Rhaena!!" Without a second thought in the matter, Vyselyra dozed her brother out of the way by slamming into his side— nearing knocking him down.
Glee penetrated the thickened sea air as the girls descended towards one another in a vastness of speed—with arms outstretched. Jacaerys's eyes fixed like the color of honey followed under darkened brows—subtly watching her. A sense of confusion moves promptly across his features. But Medrick was quite amused, merely casting a smirk at the prince's displeasure.
And then the thud of two bodies colliding filled the air—wasn't at all the sound any wanted to hear—both practically pushing each other to the ground. Rhaena was just at pinning the young princess down upon the hardened ground by her shoulders, " It has been years dear cousin, it has been too long. All the wonders i have to tell you." She gleefully remarked before then carefully removing herself from Vyselyra.
"Aye it has, but I'm here now and we shall talk the night away." She remarked, whilst wiping the sand and dirt away from her clothes. This time, Vyselyra was able to avoid the tight clenches of her mother wanting to dress her in the finest dresses. For she only favored the blackened slacks of softened leather and a top that fitted to her natural curves. One of emerald and blue, but it wasn't to be mistaken for colors of the Hightowers, but of House Manderly. At the bosom was silver and white thread intertwined with delicate beads to look like a small dragon breathing fire. A merman pin held a clock draped over her shoulders.
As Vyselyra glanced up from what seemed like the never ending sand removal—she took notice of Jacaerys and Medrick finally making their way towards Daemon and Desmond. "Race up to our brothers then shall we?" Vyselyra smugly remarked—with Rhaena hoisting her dress slightly off the ground before sprinting. Having grown up with brothers, it was quite a peasant having a girl to race. Perhaps the time she had truly laughed.
Both parties patiently watched their daughters make their way and presence known. As they rounded the end of their race, Vyselyra's thoughts were quite interrupted abruptly when the rouge prince himself spoke, " Hello princess. It is always a pleasure to see you." He ended with a crude smile—which Vyselyra lighten her speed—eventually leading into a dead stop.
" You... as well." She spoke quite breathless yet slightly hesitant—before her hands held upon her knees, trying to ease the racing heart. Her father merely exhaled heavily through the blocked passages of his nasal cavity—expressing his displeasure.
" And where is the other dear brother, Torrhen?" Daemon asks rather innocently—his vulture-eyes rapid glancing between the two Manderly siblings. Medrick side eyes her before clearing his throat, " Probably on his way to drink dragonstone dry of its wine." A small stiffened laugh escapes his lips, yet it wasn't silenced enough as for his father heard.
The shade of disappointment on their father's face says it all. It wasn't just a family affair knowing about the alcohol abuse that held Torrhen by the hand—leading him down a darkened path. It was quite known by all that the middle brother and son of House Manderly was a drunken fool whom only fancied the whore house over the seaman's court.
With the tendons set stern upon his jaw and eyes seemly bulging of disgruntlement that was held within, Desmond is quick to push the conversation elsewhere, " So Where's Rhaenrya? In good health I presume?"
Daemon nodded in response, " You'll find out soon enough once we get there. This pass moon she had not been in much of the mood for stairs." There was a slight pause for a moment before he pointed towards the back entrance of Dragonstone, " Shall we?"
They descended the small stairs with Daemon leading the pack, with more Targaryen guards assigned to the back—watching them ever so closely. Of course, Jacaerys held up the near rear—his head held low and hands made into tight fists. Even Rhaena couldn't help noticing his unease.
Vyselyra's mind was elsewhere—taking note once more of her father's persistent cough. Medrick most definitely had noticed it well before her as he shoots her the same look—one of worry. The maesters proposed it would better itself within a week, yet here they were—having watched it worsen over the course to dragonstone.
Her mind circled back to the first time she witness it whilst keeping an eye on her father as he tried to match his pace with everyone. His skin was paler than before, darken bags of light purple held under his eyes. His curly, brunette hair was unkempt when usually it was combed.
Vyselyra could not bare the sight of it anymore and thus found interest elsewhere. The seagulls high above Dragonstone caught her eye, but that mere distraction wasn't enough. For Rhaena squeezed her way between Medrick and Vyselyra. Quickly taking her promptly by the arm, "Welcome home Vyselyra. Even lost dragons have always find their way back." She remarked with a smile to which Vyselyra mirrored back, though she was not entirely sure that she was lost.
As they all entered through the doors, the walls told stories of old tales—a place that once housed the grandest of her ancestors, completely in awe as she took in the beauty that made dragonstone.
Rhaena made sure to keep her in tow as they followed closely behind their fathers. Both men were locked in some discussion—most likely about what had been mentioned before. The well being of Lord Corlys and the Driftmark throne held on by a thread.
Being the noisy and relentless girl she was, Vyselyra tried to ease drop. Being there was not a stone left unturned in that category, atlas that was all but a waste for trying.
" I know Jace is thrilled to see you." Rhaena remarked with a subtle smirk upon her lips. Vyselyra merely scoffed, " As if.." The young princess retored, hoping the Velaryon princess would drop it. It wasn't like Vyselyra did not care for the prince, after all they shared the same childhood—grew up together. But there was more to it.
But atlas, she kept on as they walked, "Oh hush now." Vyselyra casted her a disgruntled look, "And where is Lucerys and Joffrey?" She questioned, trying to move the conversation elsewhere. " Oh, i believe Joffrey is in the throne room with your lady mother. But, I do say Jace has been taking more lessons with the maester in trying perfect his high Valyrian skills." She exclaimed with a-little kick to her voice.
Rhaena momentarily stopped her train of words, as if she were cooking something up that brain of hers—watching ahead at Desmond and Daemon talking among themselves. Sometimes most ideas by her were accepted, but others that worked themselves out of her mouth often got on Vyselyra's nerves.
She then leaned in, cupping her other hand around Vyselyra's ear, " Now, He tells me it's because he wants to uphold his ancestors correctly when he becomes king, but I think it's more because he's trying to show off to you." She laughed, before gently squeezing Vyselyra's hand. Vyselyra rolled her eyes as Rhaena giggled, "Every since you one upped him when we were younger, he has been very determined."
With Rhaena's voice mellowing into soundless muffles as both rounded the corner—Vyselyra's mind wonders elsewhere in lingering thoughts. oh poor Jace outwitted by a girl. She was quite proud of herself, with a flush of pride washing over. But her little moment was short lived when the throne room ghosted into view. Even with how wide and large the palace was, there wasn't even space to keep that utterance of sourness feeling the air.
There Joffrey sat playing with Naemera and just mere feet away was her—Rhaenrya. A remote coldness brews upon her eyes—features set in concentration of fury. Her jaw clicks to a favorable angle as the crowned princess lays a direct steady blue regard from deep set eyes. Naemera glanced up, a wide smile that fixed upon her lips slowly dissipated seeing her daughters face twisted of grimace.
Rhaena, halting in her speaking, slowly grasped the situation. She grabbed the Manderly girl by the arm harshly before directing towards the large table. Jace followed in suit, taking his beside the maester. She knew they did not come here merely to mingle with family nor to play harsh games. Nor did Vyselyra want to upset her father nor mother more than they already were.
As Vyselyra stood there content, she happened to glance in Rhaena's direction. The Velaryon princess was already eyeing her—a sense of utter satisfaction had made itself at home in her soft features. Vyselyra merely gave her a dismissive blink even as Rhaena playfully tapped her using her elbow.
The Manderly princess brushed her off, ignoring her little inaudible expressions. To her, Jacaerys was just pleased to see his cousin, whom he had not seen in forever. At this very moment, there was no time for the childish games as Vyselyra would dealt with Rhaenyra's questionable life decisions. Atlas the very fate of perhaps the line, were to be put forth in front of them.
She twirled her thumbs round and round another, her eyes dancing between both parties as they began slowly departing from their individual conversations. It was not even a full hour after arriving before the council of lord Manderly and Princess Rhaenrya convened—converging around the table. Rhaenrya and Daemon stood to one side whilst her father and mother along with House Manderly's men stood to slightly to the other. However, being as young as they were, Rhaena, Vyselyra and Jacaerys were casted to the side—even to Jaces dismay.
Daemon appeared to be disgruntled as he stood there, having already heard what the lord of White harbor had to say. Though Vsyelyra felt off by his demeanor and the way he acted towards his girls sometimes, she had to give it to him that he did care for Rhaenyra.
" Lord Manderly," Rhaenrya softly spoke, fully capturing the lord's attention, "I'm assuming you did not come here merely for a family get together." She casts a subtle gaze towards Vyselyra, " After speaking with Daemon, i hear you have word of Driftmark." She remarks, setting her attention back upon Desmond.
He nodded in response, slightly leaning his right side against the table." Yes, I do of Lord Corlys and unfortunately, he is not in good health." He paused, putting a hand up to his forehand, " There has been plenty of talk from his brother, Lord Vaemond however." the atmosphere in the room, took a different time at the moment his name was uttered.
Rhaenrya swallowed hard as she immediately stopped rubbing her belly—noticing the way his tone switched. Daemon gritted his teeth—knowing what was to come from his mouth. Even in his weakened state, Desmond was not about to let that snake mingle its way in, " The other reason he wanted a personal meeting is... asking for my daughter's hand in marriage." He then slammed his fist down upon the table—" So that he may have a stronger claim." Rhaenrya shared a stuttered breath and disgruntled expression that very much matched Daemon's. Naemera placed a welcoming Pat upon her husbands back.
Even though Vyselyra had heard of this proposal already, it seemed there were some parts left out, but did not make it any better. She winced at the very notion of being married to a man no older than her father.
Jacaerys felt the same as his face twisted in grimace upon hearing those very words uttered. He would not lose her again. He casted a quick glance over at Vsyelrya, her eyes immobile much like the rest of her face—staring upon the stone floor unmoved. As the conversation held, he continued to watch her, but had not noticed he had been discovered.
The princess slowly moved to look upon Jacaerys, and yet instead being meant with coldness—the corners of her mouth resumed her soft smile. Jace quickly instructed his sight elsewhere, glancing up at the ceiling and parts, acting as if he were merely taking in the sights of the hall. But no matter how hard he tried, his cheeks told a different story.
" Why would he say such a thing?" Rhaenyra's uneased voice sucks her back in to reality. Lord Desmond scoffed, " Because He does not believe Lucerys is the legimate son of Veleryon blood. Without any hesitation, Vaemond slandered your sons' names once more in front of me and Princess Rhaenys. He has even made plans to head to Kings Landing to have a meeting with the king."
Rhaenrya was taken back that even someone of her late husband's family would dear to question her sons legitimacy. " He would dare mouth those very words to you, in front of Rhaenys—then he is spreading it like wildfire elsewhere." She pressed as anger began snaking its way through her body—her eyes of purple dancing between him and Daemon.
Daemon placed his hand upon Rhaenrya's belly, trying to calm her wrath. But Lord Manderly was not finished, he simply spat, tarnishing Vaemond's name once more. Rhaenrya's facial expression grew one of absolute disdain as she did not approve of this behavior from Vaemond nor of the marriage.
Desmond looks to Vyselyra whom holds a face of discomfort— Rhaena clasping Vyselyra's hand tightly. " Do not frat cousin, that will not be your fate." She whispered just as the others looked upon them.
Rhaenyra followed Lord Manderly's sight and noticed the rather distressed Vyselyra with Rhaena holding her close, " No," she began, " I will not allow this happen. We will go to kings landing and prove my sons claim and set things right so that snake does not get the chance."
" I agree, then to Kings landing it is, with for a personal meeting to discuss terms with Queen Alicent and King Viserys, though I wish it would not come to this." Princess Naemera proclaimed whether Perturbed.
However, the very mention of Alicent meant she would have to face her other cousins, which her stomach made turn. Vyselyra could not stand Aegon and his insolence. He often mocked her, and the last time she was there, It didn't end on great terms. However, the same could never be said for Haelena as she cared deeply for her. For she was the only one who was kind and yet socially distance. She was for too kind for this world nor for Aegon.
And Aemond was no different to her, he was nice to her long ago—seeming as thought there were more to the boy. But that was understandable, as last time in Driftmark, Lucerys took his eye. And she broke her arm, a secret she hadn't told anyone. They spat upon the hightower name, claiming she could have been killed, one that shared Targaryen blood.
Arthur then stepped forward, disturbing the lord once more, " And then what of the princess? We can not merely galivant in there and disprove his claim." Lord Manderly groaned in disgust as he slowly turned to face his adviser, " Yes, that is a mere suggestion, but one that will have to wait. My daughter does not need a marriage at this very moment." he huffed.
Rhaenrya could feel the tension raising between the two gentlemen and remembered all too much the same hatred she held for father when it came to her betrothal. Her and Daemon shot one another a look before glancing over at her son then back.
"May I add that Aemond, son of Alicent and Viserys has not yet taken with wife. I suggest to keep the vipers at rest, wed her to him thus ending this petty incursion, ones of who are bastards and whose not." Rhaenrya merely cleared her throat harshly, " You shall hold your tongue sir, I will not have it." She whispered through clenched teeth.
Lord Manderly closed the distance between himself and the man of whom he had put his trust in, sternly pointed a shaky finger at him, " I will not hear another word of this." he remarked whether distastefully, but that did not apply to his daughter.
She could not contain it anymore and it came spewing out," Arthur!" Vyselyra exclaimed, causing all to glance in her direction. The audacity he carried to put forth the very notion of marrying one of them made her blood boil. To which he replied, still holding eye contact with Desmond, " You know as well as I do, you have come of age Vyselyra, you knew this time was upon us all."
Jacaerys had his eyes trained upon her, more correctly, trained upon the fiery that cascaded across her cheeks—the kind he witnessed once before. There was something in that shout, a pain behind it. He took a slight step towards her, wanting to console her—but the maester stops him. Jace knew all too well that her anger was nothing more than a shield to hid the fear—like a soldier who had been cornered by the enemy.
Vsyelyra glared a the man who was two decades older than she. Her emotions turned jagged, her body tightening. Oh how she wish to have Windermere more than ever to end him right then and there.
" Calm the fire," Her father says, staggering to keep himself up. " Please...'he added. Upon noticing her father in the shape that he was, sweat slowly pouring down his face and his wrinkles of many years seemed to grown tenfold. She gave in and slowly retreated back beside Rhaena.
"That's enough." Rhaenyra sternly inputs, trying to deescalate the situation—eying Arthur as he bowed and took a step back. Without forth ado or interruption, She brushes pass Daemon who holds a look disdain towards Arthur. She wanted comfort the girl just as she wanted at her age—yearning for her mother after she had left this world.
Rhaenrya greeted Vyselyra, her sight then finding its way upon Vyselyra's narrowed expression—lips held in a straightened line. Rhaenrya, in a kind gesture, moves to tuck a loose stand of silver hair behind the girl's ear—yet instead her hand makes contact upon Vyselyra's arm. She brushes it back harshly, " Do not think this will change anything." Vyselyra simply spats, " I will never forget."
" Vyselyra! That is enough." Naemera screeches through clenched teeth. "Rhaena, Jace leave out for some air, this has been enough talk for today. We will set sail for Kings landing within the hour." Daemon concluded, but Vyselyra was prompt on rushing out herself—she was not going to wait. " I am so sorry." Naemera spoke, outstretching her arm in the direction of Rhaenyra. But the crowned princess merely waves her off—placing a hand upon her swollen belly, " She's young and I do not blame her for the hatred she Carries." Both then watch as Lord Desmond abruptly coughs into his arm.
The fresh air was a blessing, having cooled the fury within her body. Vyselyra had only made it halfway down the stairs before stopping suddenly and causally taking in the view. There the ocean could be seen stretching for miles—it brought upon her the same delight as home.
Vyselyra heard the familiarity of heels rhythmically clicking upon stone—Curls bounces aimlessly to the quickened pace. " Vyselyra what was that?" The Manderly princess groans, placing her forehead upon the cool stone. " Vyselyra I understand you regarded Laenor as another father, but he was my uncle too. You are not the only one who gets to be upset." She scolded, before taking a step towards her.
Rhaena's hand slowly moves upon her, with Vyselyra lifting her head up to fully face her. They stood there a moment longer, before the Velaryon girl spoke once more, " You're like a sour candy, just when it seemed the sourness has relented, it's right back a prickling upon the tongue."
Vyselyra only held a sort of amusement upon her features, much to Rhaena's dismay. Sensing in having enough for one day, Rhaena promptly excuses herself—claiming she had to tend to Joffrey. Which Vyselyra furrowed a brow—of why now of all times she chose.
So there she stood, abandoned and lost deep in thoughts. What Rhaena spoke of was all of truths, no lord. Laenor was a father figure to her and she missed him greatly. Vyselyra gazed at the waves that crushed in bountiful amounts against the sea rock—Forever lost in the rhythmic percussion. The breeze picking up once more—twirling and dancing her hair towards the castle.
" You know, she will not allow this to happen." A voice suddenly spoke from behind. But the princess merely groaned in frustration, not even making the effort to face the person whom had talked. Once again her peace was shattered.
Jace then moves in closer, so close that she feels his presence to understand it is him. He causally placed his elbows upon the weather torn stone as she did—using his hand to lean his head against. Vyselyra can already tell the young man is thinking so deeply— with a strategy that's several moves ahead of what he shall say.
" I—we cannot allow it." He corrects himself rather quickly before Vyselyra has a chance to question. She only sighed heavily in response—which made him feel relieved as maybe she did not catch that last part.
The silence lingers between them a moment more before she speaks, " If you have come to plead forth your mother innocence, forget it. You're better off speaking to the sea gulls." Vyselyra muttered, her eyes turning into the same coldness he had seen before. It was as if a haze had formed upon her.
" Listen, I'm not here to plead for her. I'm not happy with what she has done either. But she's my mother and I must stick by her side." He paused momentarily, his eyes avoiding hers. " I'm here for you... You never answered any of my letters. I wondered about Meraxes..I thought bad something bad happened. I only found out that you were alright because word from your father's trips to other places." He sheepishly fumbles his words—as emotions he held in desperately for years were bursting at the seams to escape. But would he ever have the guts to truly tell her.
Her eyes then flicker from him to sea, not even an audible sound of a Im sorry escapes her lips. The duo stand there, sheepishly avoiding another's contact. Only the waves have their turn in arguing as waves crashed violently upon rock.
" Here, I made this for you. And I just never got the chance to gift it to you." He voice breaks the unease as Vyselyra slowly turns to face him—with a cautious evaluation spread upon her features.
Be it, more than ever, her curiosity perks up—watching him digging into his pocket. It's that inner childish curiosity that's begs the older version to give in. Then out came something rather small wrapped in brown fabric—Vyselyra tilted her slightly as he handed the small bundle to her.
As the words he spoke buzzed around in her head, she delicately unwrapped it, with him delightedly watching her every move. There in the wrap was a tiny black dragon made of wood. For the first time in her life, she felt shift in the darkness that held her by the neck—one that held upon after Laenor had passed.
Jacaerys noticed a shimmer to her eyes; like the sun meeting the moon as she picked the dragon up—-thoroughly examining it. It had been hand crafted, with the mouth slightly agap and its wings just barely touching its body— its tail wrapped around the legs.
" Did you make this?" She questioned excitedly—before quickly toning her voice back its norm. She raised her eyes to meet his. "Laenor in his spare time had been showing me how to crave." He uttered, just as she glanced back to the dragon.
And there, Vyselyra awaited to hear him gloat about how easy it was, how simple it were to make— much like her brothers would have done, yet that never came. Instead, Jacaerys placed his hand gently upon hers that held the dragon, "Now you have another dragon, one for protection." He then slowly turned her hand over with his to reveal the it was a whistle—a hole craved into the very top of its head.
A small smile tugs at the corners of her mouth and he mirrors the same. Perhaps he didn't have the same intentions as his mother. But as he uttered those very words, the phrase of the lady in the market from years ago came into her mind, " one of black for protection." But Vyselyra merely shrugged it off, that couldn't have been a coincidence—could it?
" Now, unlike last time, of course no hate to Windermere, if you ever feel as if you are in danger, just call my name, blow the whistle and I will come... I promise..."
Vyselyra slightly raised a brow, casted of speculation—a sort of cockiness on continuing with her rampage, " That's nice, but I'm sure Windermere is much faster." She ends with a subtle wink much to the prince's dismay.
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WHOOP WHOOP
THE UPDATE IS HERE!!!
Can I just apologize for how long this took???? I've been so busy lately and just could not find the time to work on it.
Anyways
any theories for Vyselyra and Jace??
I wanna hear them!!
Till next time peace out ✌🏻
THANK YOU FOR READING:
HEAVY IS THE CROWN
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HOUSE OF THE DRAGON