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𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐈𝐍 ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ 𝑯𝑶𝑻𝑫
⛧°。 ⋆༺ sᴇᴀsᴏɴ ᴏɴᴇ ༻⋆。 °⛧
━━━━━━━━━━ .°୭̥ ❁ ˎˊ˗━

𝔗he dinner hall was thick with anticipation, the tension palpable as all the seats were filled, but no one had touched their food. The family sat, waiting for King Viserys to make his entrance.

Saela was seated between the twin brothers, Vaegon and Aeron. It felt almost ironic to her, being caught between them, her mind pulled in two directions. Aeron, to her left, was making casual conversation, his tone light and easy. She found herself listening to him, noticing how kind he was, how he carried himself with a grace and intelligence that would make him a good noble husband. There was something reassuring about him, a steadiness she admired.

But her mind kept drifting, despite her efforts to stay present in the conversation. Her gaze kept wandering to Vaegon, the younger of the two, sitting to her right. He was quieter, his presence more mysterious, and his energy stirred something in her. Something she couldn't put into words.

Across from them, Aegon was already drunk, his speech slurred as he leaned back in his chair. "How... how is it that anyone tells the difference between you two?" he slurred, his voice rising as he looked between the twins.

Aeron grinned, his eyes glinting with humor. "Easy, I'm the better-looking one."

The table laughed softly at Aeron's joke, and Saela couldn't help but smile at his easy charm. But Vaegon, ever the more reserved twin, chimed in with a soft chuckle and a witty remark that made the room chuckle again.

Just then, the heavy doors to the hall creaked open, and all conversation ceased. The family stood in respect as King Viserys made his entrance, slow and deliberate, the weight of his age and illness clear in every step. When he reached his seat at the head of the table, everyone else sat once more.

Viserys' voice was strong, despite the weariness in his face. "How good it is to see you all tonight... together," he said, his eyes glistening with a bittersweet warmth.

Alicent, seated next to him, turned to the family. "Prayer before we begin?"

Viserys nodded.

Alicent raised her voice, her words filling the hall with a reverent quiet. "May the Mother smile down on this gathering with love. May the Smith mend the bonds that have been broken for far too long. And to Vaemond Velaryon, may the gods give him rest."

Daemon, sitting to the side, couldn't help but smirk slightly at Alicent's words.

Saela's hand gripped the edge of her seat, her pulse quickening. The weight of the prayer seemed to press on her chest, reminding her of the tumultuous events of the past days. Vaegon noticed her reaction immediately, and without a word, he reached out and subtly ran his fingers between hers. She looked up at him, her heart skipping a beat, but he had his eyes closed, lost in the prayer.

Once the prayer ended, Vaegon gently let go of her hand, his touch lingering just a moment longer than necessary.

Viserys raised his cup, his gaze sweeping over the gathered family. "This is an occasion for celebration, it seems. My nephew Aeron, will marry the lady Saela Velaryon, further strengthening the ties between Targaryen and Velaryon. The noble houses of old Valyria."

He smiled warmly at Aeron and Saela, who dipped their heads in respect.

Viserys continued, his voice filled with pride. "And my grandsons, Jace and Luke, will marry their cousins, Baela and Rhaena, further strengthening the bond between our houses. A toast to the young princes... and their betrothed. Hear, hear!"

Everyone raised their cups, offering a unified toast.

Daemon, ever the bold one, called out with his own hearty "Hear, hear."

Viserys then turned his attention to the youngest of his grandsons. "Let us toast as well to Prince Lucerys... the future Lord of the Tides."

Rhaenyra, her voice strong and proud, added, "Hear, hear."

Viserys stood slowly, gathering his strength for a speech. The entire hall fell into a hushed silence as he began, his voice tinged with emotion.

"It both gladdens my heart and fills me with sorrow to see these faces around the table," he said softly, gazing at his family with a bittersweet smile. "The faces most dear to me in all the world... yet grown so distant from each other... in the years past. My own face... is no longer a handsome one... (chuckles softly) if indeed it ever was. But tonight... I wish you to see me as I am. Not just a king... but your father. Your brother. Your uncle. Your husband... and your grandsire. Who may not, it seems... walk for much longer among you. Let us no longer hold ill feelings in our hearts."

He slammed his fist against the table, the force echoing in the room.

"The Crown cannot stand strong if the House of the Dragon remains divided. But set aside your grievances." He slammed his fist again, the sound sharp and urgent. "If not for the sake of the Crown... then for the sake of this old man who loves you all so dearly."

The room was still, the weight of Viserys' words hanging heavily in the air. Every eye was on him, the family's divided hearts silently searching for the truth in his plea.

Under the flickering candlelight, the conversation at the table continued to ebb and flow with ease, despite the undercurrent of tension that still clung to the air.

Rhaenyra, her voice steady but filled with emotion, raised her cup in a silent toast. "I wish to raise my cup to Her Grace, the Queen." Her gaze turned toward Alicent, and there was something vulnerable in her expression. "I love my father. But I must admit, no one has stood... more loyally by his side than his good wife. She has tended to him with... unfailing devotion, love, and honor. And for that, she has my gratitude... and my apology."

Alicent, clearly moved, took a breath to steady herself. She sniffled before responding with a soft but sincere voice, "Your graciousness moves me deeply, Princess." Her words were genuine, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "We are both mothers, and we love our children. We have more in common than we sometimes allow." She raised her cup toward Rhaenyra, her tone warmer now. "I raise my cup to you and to your house. You will make a fine queen."

Aegon, who had been stood up to repour his cup, leaned toward Baela and whispered something in her ear. Whatever it was caused Jace, to suddenly snap. His chair scraped violently as he stood, fists slamming into the table.

Everyone at the table fell silent, their eyes turning to him in surprise. The tension in the room shifted immediately, everyone unsure of what had caused Jace's outburst.

Aemond, his features as sharp as ever, rose to his feet in response, his eyes flicking to Jace with a quiet challenge.

"Jace..." Baela's voice was soft, her hand reaching for his arm in an attempt to calm him, but Jace didn't respond immediately.

The room was silent, all eyes fixed on the two men at opposite ends of the table.

Jace, ever quick to regain control, reached for his glass with a determined expression. He raised it to the table, his voice firm despite the lingering tension. "To Prince Aegon and Prince Aemond. We have not seen each other in years, but I have fond memories of our shared youth. And as men, I hope we may yet be friends and allies. To you and your family's good health, dear uncles."

There was a pause, and then the table, though hesitantly, raised their cups to the toast, the momentary rift between the cousins momentarily closed.

Aegon, smug and slightly drunk, leaned back in his seat with a lazy grin. "To you as well." His voice was dripping with feigned sincerity.

Helaena, trying to lighten the mood, looked around at the table, her voice soft but carrying. "I would like to toast to Saela, Baela, and Rhaena." She glanced at each of them in turn, her expression sweet, yet mischievous. "They'll be married soon. It isn't so bad. Mostly, he just ignores you... except sometimes when he's drunk."

The table erupted into scattered laughter, the tension easing just a fraction as people chuckled at Helaena's remark. Even Jace, still holding his glass, couldn't help but smile, though there was a tightness in his jaw.

Otto, seated beside Helaena, nodded approvingly at her words, a slight smirk on his lips as he murmured to his granddaughter, "Good."

The air shifted once more, and Viserys, ever the steady presence at the head of the table, cleared his throat. "Let us have some music."

The soft strains of music began to fill the hall, a gentle melody playing as the atmosphere relaxed, the strains of the tune creating a temporary escape from the undercurrent of unresolved tensions. The music swirled around them, and though the conversation continued, the weight of the moment seemed to linger.

The music swirled around the grand hall, its melody weaving through the air, the soft notes inviting a lighthearted atmosphere to settle over the gathering. Jace, still with an edge of challenge in his movements, rose from his seat, his eyes locking with Helaena's. Without another word, he offered her his hand and pulled her into the center of the room. The tension from earlier seemed to dissipate as they began to dance, their movements fluid and in sync, a sense of camaraderie between the two evident as they twirled and laughed.

Aeron, sensing an opening to escape the weight of the familial drama, turned toward Saela. His smile was warm and polite as he extended his hand, asking her to dance. She looked at him for a moment, hesitating only slightly before rising and placing her hand in his. They joined the others in the center of the hall, the group forming a carefree circle. Laughter rang out as they danced, the joy of the moment temporarily erasing the tensions that hung in the air just moments before.

From his seat at the table, Vaegon watched them, his gaze fixed on Saela. His leg bounced with restless energy, the soft smile on his lips betraying the storm of emotions swirling inside him. He could not tear his eyes away from her-her grace, her laugh, the way she moved with effortless charm as she danced with his brother. He felt a pang of something deep and unfamiliar in his chest, but he quickly buried it. Saela was Aeron's betrothed, after all. Still, he couldn't shake the image of her laughing, her hair spinning in the light, and he found himself lost in the moment.

Aegon and Aemond, ever observant, noticed the way Vaegon was watching Saela. Their eyes met, and a sly smirk spread across both of their faces. The brothers, quick to seize the opportunity for mischief, silently stood and made their way toward Vaegon, each slipping into a seat beside him with quiet precision.

Vaegon, startled from his reverie, glanced up and raised a brow. His lips parted to speak, but he found his voice thick with annoyance as he addressed the two. "May I help you?"

Aegon's grin widened, and he leaned back in his chair with a feigned air of innocence. "What? Can't I speak to my uncle?"

Vaegon's eyes narrowed slightly, and he let out a humorless laugh. He was not in the mood for their games, but he knew well enough that provoking them would only lead to more ridicule. Still, something about the way they were watching him-smirking, teasing-irritated him.

Vaegon tried to push the irritation down, his gaze flicking back to the dance floor where Saela and Aeron were still moving with effortless grace. The sight tugged at something deep inside him, but he forced himself to look away, focusing instead on Aegon and Aemond who sat beside him.

Aegon, catching his uncle's distracted expression, leaned forward, his smirk never faltering. "You seem rather preoccupied, Vaegon," he teased, his voice light but carrying an edge of curiosity. "Is there something on your mind?"

Vaegon's jaw tightened slightly, his fingers curling around the edge of his goblet. "Nothing that concerns you," he muttered, his voice low, but the underlying tension was impossible to miss.

Aemond, ever the more perceptive twin, shifted his gaze from Vaegon to Saela, watching her closely as she danced with Aeron. He then returned his gaze to Vaegon, the corner of his mouth lifting in a knowing smirk. "Don't worry, Vaegon," Aemond spoke softly, almost too casually. "There are many ways to lose oneself in a woman. It's only natural."

Vaegon's heart skipped a beat at the implication, but he kept his composure. He could feel the heat rising to his face, though he refused to let it show. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest, eyes flicking between Aegon and Aemond. "You've been at this game for too long, haven't you?"

Aegon's grin widened, clearly enjoying the game he was playing. "Some things you never outgrow, Vaegon."

Aemond chuckled softly. "It's not just a game when the stakes are high."

Vaegon's gaze darkened as he turned his attention back to Saela. She caught his eye for a fleeting moment, and for a brief instant, it felt as if everything around him paused. His chest tightened again, and he found himself fighting the urge to stand and join her, to offer his hand as if he were the one she danced with. But he knew better. Saela was promised to Aeron, and his place was here, stuck in the uneasy tension with his cousins.

"Enough of this," Vaegon muttered, finally breaking the silence between them. He stood abruptly, pushing his chair back with a sharp scrape against the stone floor.

Aegon raised an eyebrow, still amused. "Where are you going? The night's just getting started."

Vaegon stood up from his seat, his movement sharp and deliberate, his frustration mounting as the laughter of Aegon and Aemond echoed around him. He had had enough of their teasing and the endless game they played. He leaned toward them, his voice low and smooth as he rested his hands on the back of their chairs.

"I've grown tired of your company," Vaegon said with confidence, his tone tinged with a challenge.

Without waiting for a response, he turned and made his way to the dance floor. The music swirled around him, the lively chatter of the guests fading into the background as he approached the group already dancing. Jace and Halaena were spinning together, Aeron and Saela in perfect sync beside them. Vaegon couldn't ignore the pull in his chest as he watched Saela move, her elegance on full display, her laughter ringing like music to his ears.

With a quick glance at his brother, who gave him an easy nod and a laugh, Vaegon stepped forward with purpose.

"May I cut in?" he asked, his voice laced with a subtle challenge, though his gaze was fixed on Saela.

Aeron didn't think twice. "Of course," he replied, his tone light and carefree, unaware of the tension brewing beneath the surface.

Vaegon reached out for Saela's hand, his fingers brushing against hers, and as their hands touched, it felt like a jolt of electricity ran through him. Saela looked up at him, her brow furrowing slightly in confusion as he gently pulled her into his embrace. They began to dance, their steps flowing together despite the awkwardness in the air.

Saela hesitated for a moment, then leaned in slightly, her voice a soft whisper against his ear. "What are you doing, Vaegon?" she asked, her words laced with both curiosity and caution.

Vaegon's lips tugged into a slight smile, but there was a hint of something more behind his gaze-something unreadable. He tilted his head slightly, his eyes locking with hers. "What? I can't dance with my future sister-in-law?" he replied, his tone teasing but layered with an unspoken meaning.

Saela's heart skipped a beat, the realization of his words sinking in slowly. She glanced over at Aeron, who was still happily engaged in conversation with Jace and Halaena, blissfully unaware of the unspoken tension between his brother and his betrothed. Her thoughts flickered briefly to the betrothal and the complicated emotions it stirred within her.

For a moment, the music enveloped them both, and Saela found herself caught between the pull of duty and the quiet stirrings of something she hadn't expected to feel. She couldn't deny the magnetic energy between her and Vaegon, but she also knew where her loyalties lay, and where her future was already written.

As they danced, their movements in sync despite the unease beneath, Vaegon kept his gaze fixed on her, watching her every expression, silently daring her to admit what they both seemed to feel, yet neither could fully embrace.

The tension in the room was palpable as a new figure entered, drawing the eyes of nearly every guest present. A beautiful young woman, with brown hair and eyes the color of earth and moss, stepped gracefully into the hall, her green dress flowing behind her. She looked like someone who belonged in a tale of noble houses, her presence striking and undeniably captivating.

She made her way to the seat next to Alicent, and there, in between Alicent and Otto Hightower, she sat. The room seemed to shift slightly with her arrival, her beauty impossible to ignore.

Aeron, who had been watching Saela dance with Vaegon, suddenly found his gaze drawn to the woman in the green dress. His breath caught, and for a moment, he was lost in the depths of her gaze. She was stunning-an unsettling realization that he tried to push aside quickly, returning his attention to his betrothed, who was still dancing with Vaegon.

But his thoughts lingered.

Meanwhile, Viserys, who had been watching the proceedings from his seat, suddenly broke into a violent coughing fit. The guards rushed in, swiftly escorting him from the room, and the music faltered as the guests looked on with concern. Those still dancing-Jace, Halaena, Aeron, and Saela-quickly returned to their seats, the moment of levity vanishing in an instant.

The room fell silent for a moment before Alicent rose to her feet, her voice cutting through the quiet.

"Ladies and gentlemen, if I may have a moment of your attention," Alicent began, her voice composed despite the tension. "I would like to introduce my younger sister, Lady Elara Hightower."

The guests murmured in curiosity as Elara stood, her poise graceful and regal.

"It is a pleasure to meet each of you, an honor truly," she said, her voice soft but carrying a certain warmth. She raised her cup in greeting, and the others followed suit, lifting their goblets in silent acknowledgment. After a beat, Elara returned to her seat.

The momentary calm was short-lived, as Aemond, ever the provocateur, broke the quiet. He raised his glass with a smirk, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Final tribute. To the health of my nephews, Jace... Luke... and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise... strong."

Alicent's voice was sharp, but filled with restraint. "Aemond..."

Aemond ignored her, his smirk widening as he continued. "Come... let us drain our cups to these three... Strong boys."

Jace stood up immediately, his fists clenched at his sides, his face red with fury. "I dare you to say that again."

Vaegon, who had been standing behind Jace, his body stiff with tension, moved to stand protectively beside his younger brother. His eyes locked onto Aemond's with a warning gleam.

Aemond's smirk only deepened. "Why? 'Twas only a compliment. Do you not think yourself strong?"

Jace was barely able to hold back, his anger spilling over as he swung a punch at Aemond.

Aemond's laughter echoed as he turned his cheek at the blow, his eyes flickering with amusement.

Vaegon, unable to stay back any longer, stepped forward, placing himself between Aemond and Jace. He met Aemond's gaze with a hard look. "I dare you."

Aemond's eyes lit up with a predatory gleam, and he smirked, stepping toward Vaegon.

In a sudden movement, Vaegon shoved Aemond back, his strength surprising even himself. The room seemed to hold its breath as the tension escalated.

"Jace!" Rhaenyra's voice rang out, her command sharp, but Jace barely heard her as he took another step toward Aemond.

Lucerys, his younger brother, stood up to back him up, but before he could move, Aegon reached out and slammed Lucerys's face down into the table with a brutal force.

Aeron, his anger flaring, was on his feet in an instant. He lunged forward, his fist landing squarely on Aegon's face, sending him staggering back.

The room erupted in chaos. Guests gasped as the guards rushed in to break up the brawl.

Alicent, her face red with fury, stood, her voice sharp as a whip. "That is enough!" she shouted, her eyes narrowing as she stormed toward Aemond. She grabbed him by the arm, spinning him to face her. "Why would you say such a thing before these people?"

Aemond, ever the smirker, looked at his mother with a sly grin. "I was merely expressing how proud I am of my family, Mother. Though it seems my nephews aren't quite as proud of theirs."

Jace and Vaegon, incensed by his words, charged toward Aemond again, but it was Prince Daemon who stepped in, his commanding presence halting them in their tracks. "Wait, wait!" Daemon's voice rang out over the din of the room. The guards restrained the brothers, holding them back as Daemon gestured toward the door.

Rhaenyra, her patience wearing thin, turned toward her sons, her voice shaking with a mixture of anger and desperation. "Go to your quarters. All of you, go. Now."

And as the guards ushered the troubled youth out of the hall, the tension in the room hung heavy, the fragile thread of family bonds hanging in the air, torn and frayed by their uncontrollable tempers.

𝔗he heavy silence in the hallway felt suffocating as the group of young nobles made their way to their respective quarters, escorted by guards to ensure there would be no further violence. Vaegon, Aeron, Saela, Jace, and Lucerys walked in grim silence, the weight of the events hanging in the air between them. No one spoke a word, each lost in their thoughts, the tension of the evening still simmering beneath the surface. The only sounds were the soft echo of their footsteps, the distant murmurs of servants, and the clanking of armor as the guards kept a watchful eye on the group.

Once they reached their separate rooms, the tension began to dissipate in the privacy of their quarters. Saela stepped into her room, her heart still racing from the chaos of the evening. She paused at the door, her breath shaky as she tried to steady herself.

It was then that she noticed her mother sitting quietly by the fire, the warm glow of the flames casting gentle shadows on Rhaenys's face. Saela's heart skipped a beat, startled at first by her mother's presence, but soon the tension in her body began to relax. She crossed the room in a few strides and, without a word, wrapped her arms around Rhaenys in a tight, comforting embrace.

Rhaenys pulled her daughter close, hugging her fiercely, as if trying to reassure herself as much as Saela. "I'm sorry that I couldn't be there, my love," Rhaenys whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I had to-" She paused, her chest rising with a shaky breath. "I had to see your uncle's body off."

Saela nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat, the weight of her grief and the evening's events threatening to overwhelm her. She could feel the heat of unshed tears stinging her eyes, but she held them back, pushing the sorrow down as she focused on the comfort of her mother's arms around her.

"I'll be alright, Mother," Saela whispered softly, her voice barely above a whisper. The words felt like a lie, but she said them nonetheless, wanting to reassure her mother more than herself.

Rhaenys kissed the top of her head and ran her hand gently through Saela's hair, her touch tender and soothing. "I know, my sweet girl," she murmured. "But you must know that Rhaenyra and Daemon want you to go back with them to Dragonstone. They intend for you to marry Prince Aeron by the end of this fortnight."

Saela's breath caught in her throat as she pulled back slightly, looking up at her mother in shock. "Well, they're in a hurry," she said, her voice bitter and surprised.

Rhaenys's gaze softened, though there was a hint of worry in her eyes. "They have to be, Saela."

Saela's eyes narrowed, a sudden intensity in her gaze as she searched her mother's face. "And why's that?"

Rhaenys hesitated for a moment, her expression darkening. "Because... there are whispers of war," she said quietly, her voice heavy with concern. "You be careful, my daughter. You hear me?"

Saela's heart skipped a beat at her mother's words. She felt a chill settle in her chest, the realization that her life was no longer moving at a pace she controlled sinking in. She nodded firmly, a determined expression crossing her face. "I hear you, Mother. And I'll be careful. But I can't just sit by and do nothing."

Rhaenys gave her daughter a soft, knowing look. "I know you, Saela. You will never just sit by. But remember-sometimes, the choices we make can change everything."

Saela nodded again, taking a deep breath as she held her mother close once more. The weight of the future was heavy on her shoulders, but she would bear it. She had no other choice.

Rhaenys studied her daughter with a knowing gaze, the unspoken words hanging between them. She gently cupped Saela's cheek, her thumb brushing over her skin as she offered a soft smile. "I'm sure, over time, you'll come to love him," she said, her tone gentle but firm, as though trying to instill some comfort. "I did not love your father at first, but overtime..."

Saela forced a nod, her lips trembling slightly. She wanted to believe her mother's words, but the ache in her heart made it difficult. The thought of growing to love Aeron felt distant, foreign, when her heart was already occupied by another.

Rhaenys watched her daughter closely, her sharp, maternal instincts sensing the internal struggle Saela was facing. She knew the truth without needing to be told-Saela's heart belonged to another. Vaegon, his name hung in the air, unspoken, but evident in every fleeting glance, every secret smile, every quiet moment shared between them.

Rhaenys sighed softly, her expression softening as she leaned in and kissed Saela's forehead. "I understand," she whispered. "But remember, my sweet girl, sometimes duty requires us to put aside our desires. You must honor your vows, even if it's not with the one you wish."

Saela closed her eyes for a moment, the weight of her mother's words sinking deep within her. She knew the burden of duty all too well. She had been raised on it, taught to respect the alliances forged by blood, power, and politics. But no matter how many times she repeated those lessons in her mind, they never seemed to quiet the ache in her chest when she thought of Vaegon.

"I will try, Mother," Saela said quietly, her voice tinged with both resolve and sorrow. "But it's hard."

Rhaenys pressed her lips together, fighting the urge to say more. She could not make her daughter's decisions for her. Saela was a woman grown, with her own heart, her own choices to make, even if they were clouded by the weight of their house's politics.

"You are strong, Saela," Rhaenys finally said, her voice full of quiet pride. "And I believe you'll find a way through this, even if it feels impossible right now."

Saela nodded, though her heart was still heavy with uncertainty. She had a duty, yes. And though the road ahead seemed unclear, she would walk it, even if her heart yearned for a different path.

𝔗he early morning mist clung to the ship as it cut through the still waters, heading toward Dragonstone. The salty air kissed Saela's skin, and the distant sound of waves crashing against the hull was oddly soothing. She stood at the bow of the ship, her gaze fixed on the horizon, where the first light of dawn began to spread across the sky.

The sun rose slowly, casting a warm golden hue over the water and turning the dark sea into a brilliant, shimmering expanse. The sight should have been peaceful, calming even, but it only reminded her of how far she was from everything she knew. Dragonstone, her new home... a place she had never set foot in, yet had heard so much about. A place now tethered to the future she was about to marry into.

She breathed deeply, the cool wind filling her lungs, but it did little to quell the unease building in her chest. Her dragon, a majestic creature of deep purple scales, soared overhead, cutting through the sky with ease. The dragon's wings beat steadily, as though it, too, was leaving behind the world they knew, traveling toward an uncertain future.

Saela watched the dragon's graceful flight, feeling an unexpected sense of comfort. Despite all the chaos, the uncertainty, and the weight of her betrothal to Aeron, she knew her dragon would always be there, a constant companion and a reminder of her own strength.

A soft sigh escaped her lips as her thoughts wandered. She couldn't help but think of Vaegon. His presence lingered in her mind, in every shadow, in every fleeting moment they had shared. His eyes. His quiet, fierce demeanor. The way his fingers brushed against hers the night before. Her heart ached just thinking of him, but she forced herself to push the thought aside. The future was set. She had made her choice. Duty would come first, no matter the cost.

"Dragonstone awaits," she murmured to herself, her voice barely louder than the wind. As the ship continued its journey toward the island, she couldn't shake the feeling that the path ahead would lead her to places she couldn't yet imagine.

She stood tall, her eyes still fixed on the horizon, where the rising sun was beginning to paint the sky in hues of red and orange. It was a new day, and a new chapter of her life was about to unfold.

Behind her, the soft sound of footsteps on the deck grew louder, and she didn't need to turn around to know who it was. She could feel his presence, unmistakable and familiar. Vaegon's voice broke through her thoughts, his tone calm, though with an undercurrent of something else.

"You'll like Dragonstone," he said, his voice low and steady. "It's a lot like Driftmark."

Saela slowly turned toward him, her heart fluttering just slightly at the sight of him standing there. His presence was both a comfort and a challenge, but she couldn't bring herself to look away.

"Built by the same... Valyrians," she replied, her words soft but thoughtful.

Vaegon nodded, stepping closer as the wind tugged at his hair. He met her gaze with an easy smile, though there was a quiet sadness in his eyes, something he was trying to hide behind the facade.

"Do you ever think of Old Valyria? What it was like?" Saela asked, the question leaving her lips before she could second-guess it. It was a question that had haunted her too, one that seemed impossible to answer, but one she couldn't help but wonder about.

Vaegon's smile softened as he glanced off toward the horizon, the distant past calling to him. "All the time," he said quietly. "Though that would be more of Aeron's interest than my own. He's obsessed with reading, studying anything really-history, the dragons, the old texts..."

Saela chuckled softly, a small, knowing smile forming on her lips. "Yes, he's quite intelligent, I've gathered."

Vaegon's eyes shifted back to her, a faint twinkle of amusement in them. "Yes, that he is." His words hung between them for a moment, and the silence that followed felt thick with unsaid things.

They exchanged a look, a fleeting connection that neither of them could ignore. It wasn't just the wind between them or the sea-it was the unspoken tension, the gravity that pulled them together despite everything.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Saela's thoughts raced, but she couldn't find the words to break the spell. She wanted to say so many things, but it seemed like the wrong time, the wrong place. Instead, she just held his gaze, as if trying to imprint the moment in her mind, to capture it before the distance between them grew any wider.

Saela and Vaegon stood in silence for a moment longer, the tension between them almost palpable. The only sounds that filled the space between them were the waves crashing against the ship and the distant calls of seagulls. She could feel her heartbeat quicken, the air thick with something unspoken, something they both felt but neither would admit.

It was clear to both of them that there was a connection, something more than just the shared history of their families, something that stretched beyond duty and responsibility. But neither of them could speak it. Not yet. Not with so much at stake.

Finally, Vaegon broke the silence, his voice low and steady as if trying to convince himself as much as her. "Dragonstone is beautiful in its own way. The cliffs, the sea... it's not like Driftmark, but it has its own kind of magic."

Saela nodded, her eyes flicking back to the horizon. The ocean stretched endlessly before her, a vastness that mirrored the chasm of emotions she couldn't quite grasp. "I've heard stories. It must be strange, being raised there, such an ancient place," she said, her tone thoughtful but detached. She wasn't asking about the castle or the island itself-she was asking about him, though she didn't dare admit it.

Vaegon looked at her from the corner of his eye, studying her quietly. She was so different from the woman he was expected to marry. His mind struggled to reconcile the image of her-strong, independent, yet so tender with her emotions-with the woman he had been told was destined for his brother.

"Not really," Vaegon replied after a pause. "It's a place full of memories." His words hung in the air for a moment, and his gaze drifted briefly to the ship's edge, his thoughts clearly far away. Saela caught the fleeting shadow in his eyes, but she didn't comment. She had seen the way his gaze would cloud over sometimes, and she knew there were parts of him he kept hidden, just like her.

They stood there together for a few beats more, neither one moving or speaking, yet somehow understanding each other in the silence.

Saela exhaled slowly, the weight of the moment pressing down on her. "I suppose we all have our pasts," she said softly, almost to herself.

Vaegon's eyes flicked toward her, then back to the endless horizon. He didn't want to think about what lay ahead, not now. Not when all he could focus on was the space between them. "We do," he agreed, his voice barely above a whisper. "But sometimes, it's what's ahead that weighs the heaviest."

Her gaze lingered on him, her eyes searching his face as if trying to read him, to understand the man standing beside her. "And what lies ahead for you, Vaegon?" she asked, her voice quiet but full of a curiosity she couldn't quite stifle.

The question was dangerous, he knew. Too dangerous. It felt too personal, too close to what neither of them could confront. His gaze softened, a flicker of something almost like a smile passing over his lips, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. "The same as everyone else. I suppose we all have our roles to play," he said, his words evasive, his voice taking on a certain finality.

Saela felt that familiar ache settle in her chest, the one that made her wish she could say something, do something, that would bridge the distance between them. But she knew better than to let that longing slip out. It couldn't.

For a long moment, the only sound was the wind, the creaking of the ship, and the distant cry of the gulls. But as Saela turned her gaze back to the horizon, she couldn't shake the feeling that this moment-this fragile connection they were both trying to ignore-was something they would come to regret if they didn't acknowledge it.

But for now, neither of them said a word. The silence stretched on, thick with the weight of things neither of them dared to speak aloud.

Vaegon's voice broke the silence, his words cutting through the heavy air between them. "You should go speak to him," he said quietly, his gaze still fixed on the horizon, as if the words were easier to say when they weren't aimed directly at her. "Get to know him better."

Saela turned her head slightly, her curiosity piqued by the shift in his tone. "Him?" she asked, though she already knew who he meant. Aeron. Her betrothed.

Vaegon paused, his expression unreadable. For a moment, the tension seemed to rise again, thick enough to choke on. "I think you'll quite like him," he continued, his voice steady but tinged with something she couldn't place. "He's very..." He trailed off, the words hanging in the air as if he were searching for the right one. "Agreeable."

The word lingered between them, almost too neutral, too measured. Saela couldn't help but notice the way his jaw tightened just slightly as he said it. It was as if he didn't quite believe the words himself, or perhaps, as if he were trying to convince both of them of something neither of them fully accepted.

She tilted her head, her gaze flickering to his profile, trying to gauge his true feelings. "Agreeable?" she repeated, her tone light but edged with curiosity. She couldn't imagine that was all Vaegon had to say about Aeron. She knew better than anyone that Vaegon, despite his calm exterior, had more depth than his words often suggested. She waited for him to elaborate, but he didn't.

Instead, Vaegon simply nodded, his eyes still distant, as if he were no longer talking to her but rather to himself. "Yes. He's a good match for you. And, well... there's no reason not to make the best of it."

Saela's chest tightened at his words, and for a moment, she wasn't sure if it was from the growing realization of her duty or something else. She took a slow, steady breath, turning away from him to stare out at the sea once more.

"I suppose you're right," she said, though her voice held a bitterness she hadn't intended. "There's nothing to be done, is there? I'm to marry him, and that's all there is to it."

Vaegon's gaze lingered on her, and she could feel his eyes on her even though she refused to meet his. His silence spoke volumes, and for a fleeting moment, Saela wondered if he saw right through her-if he understood the war that raged inside her, between duty and desire, loyalty and longing.

Without a word, Vaegon stood, his figure tall and composed. He placed his hand briefly on her shoulder, the touch warm and reassuring in a way that caught her off guard. "You'll be fine, Saela," he said softly. "You'll make it work. For your family, for the crown."

She nodded, but her heart felt heavier than before. The weight of what was to come-of the life she was about to lead, the marriage she would enter, the future that awaited her-pressed down on her chest. And yet, despite her resolve, despite the quiet acceptance she had tried to force upon herself, the part of her that had always known something was missing, something wasn't right, stirred again. It was something she couldn't quiet, no matter how much she wished she could.

With a final glance at her, Vaegon turned and walked toward the ship's helm, his back straight, his expression unreadable. Saela remained where she stood, the wind tugging at her hair, but it did little to ease the storm brewing inside her.

She knew she should listen to Vaegon. She knew she should make the best of her situation and grow closer to Aeron, try to make the marriage work, as it was her duty to do. But no matter how hard she tried, her thoughts kept returning to one person, one feeling she couldn't shake, no matter how much she wanted to bury it.

And that feeling, that connection she couldn't quite name, was something that tied her to Vaegon. And it was something she knew, deep down, would change everything.

Saela's gaze lingered on the horizon for a moment longer, but the weight of Vaegon's words still echoed in her mind. She inhaled deeply, her heart heavy with the complexity of her emotions.

"You're right," she murmured, almost to herself, her voice barely above a whisper. The words felt like a resignation, but they were also the start of something inevitable. She knew what she had to do, and though the thought of it unsettled her, she couldn't avoid it.

She turned away from the edge of the ship and began to walk with purposeful steps toward the lower deck. Her movements were quick, but there was a lingering uncertainty in her every step, as though the path ahead was one she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to walk.

Behind her, Vaegon's gaze followed her every movement, his eyes dark and unreadable. His posture remained stiff as he watched her retreat into the ship, the familiar pull in his chest becoming a knot he couldn't untie. He didn't want to feel this way, didn't want to think about her as he had been, yet it was impossible to push the thoughts away.

For a long moment, he stayed where he was, rooted to the spot as the waves lapped against the side of the ship. His fingers gripped the edge of the railing tightly, his knuckles white, though his face remained impassive.

He had told her to go to Aeron. To speak with him, to get to know him. It made sense. Aeron was her betrothed. He was the one who would be her future, the one she was meant to be with. But even as Vaegon told her to do what was expected of her, his chest tightened with a conflicting emotion he couldn't entirely name.

He should be happy for her, he thought. She was doing what was right, what was expected of her, what was necessary for the families and the crown. Yet, when she left to speak with Aeron, something inside him stirred that he didn't want to acknowledge.

He could feel it-the tension, the connection they had shared since they were mere children. It was like a thread between them, invisible yet strong, pulling him toward her in a way that made him want to ignore everything else and just follow his heart. But that would be selfish. And in this world, being selfish was dangerous.

Taking a deep breath, Vaegon turned away from the railing, shaking off the thoughts that clouded his mind. He knew what he had to do. He couldn't allow himself to fall further into this dangerous pull toward her. She had a duty, and so did he.

But still, his gaze lingered where she had disappeared, and for a brief moment, he wondered if the future they were both walking toward could ever allow for something different. Something more.

As the ship sailed on toward Dragonstone, the uncertainty between them remained, as silent and steady as the waves crashing against the side.