It wasn't easy for Baela at first. Her mother's death had left a significant mark on her and her family. But on the day of her mother's funeral, everything seemed to be on her mind except the funeral itself.

She remembers that you were the first one to approach her that day; you were both cousins, even though you hadn't met for the first time, but she always thought you were a sweet and sympathetic girl. Not at all like her.

Baela could hardly be called an exemplary lady, she was too similar to her father, but she inherited her mother's appearance. A boyish character, stubbornness, courage and fearlessness. While you were more calm, gentle, feminine and, unlike Jace, you were the only child of Rhaenyra who inherited Valyrian traits.

You never had a sister, and constantly being among brothers could sometimes be too stressful, so the two of you quickly became close when Baela moved to Dragonstone. She loved how understanding and kind you were, but also smart and confident – a spitting image of your mother and certainly like her firstborn, a worthy heir.

It was easy to find a common language with you, despite the fact that the two of you seemed so different. Escaping from classes, riding your dragons, training by the sea. In fact, for Baela, you were something like a first friend, but she could hardly notice then that sometimes her thoughts about you were not at all friendly.

“You shouldn't worry so much, you know?” It surprised even she herself, how she could be next to you. Her slender fingers gently combed through the strands of your silver hair, while your head rested on her lap.

Today, you were especially tense because your mother allowed the bastards to try to ride the dragons. Baela didn't know how she herself felt about it, since she was currently focused on calming you down.

She knew you were unsure of yourself because of the rumors about your paternity. After all, they, as luck would have it, concerned you too, despite the fact that you were not like your brothers.