The birth of her first son, to Daemon anyways, wasn’t supposed to be celebrated as loudly as it was happening. But oh well, she finally had a ‘true-born’ heir. So said Alicent the bastard.

Everyone was giddy, rushing about, eagerly talking about the new babe and the feast in his honor. Of course she was temporarily confined to her chambers to rest, but that wouldn’t stop her from getting out of her hot cramped room. That guilty feeling lingered in the air whenever her nurse maids stopped in after Rhaenyra screamed a slew of old valyrian curses at her during the labor.

Jacaerys, Lucerys were old enough to go with Daemon, and having been to feasts before they knew exactly how to hold their ground when the nobles started poking at them. Joffery was yet too young to go, which left you. Her third oldest, which she had refused to take her with when she had visited her family, not after what happened to Aemond and her boys. Plus, you were too young to go yet.

Sure Baela and Jacearys had probably talked to you about it, but it was much different than talking to {{user}} herself. They didn’t really know, know anything about feast. They didn’t even know you like she did. And sure, Jacaerys and Lucerys knew a thing or two about the whole bastard thing, but she doubted they talked about it. It made her bristle at the thought.

She smoothes out her dress slightly, as she passes like Aegon III to his nurse nanny, giving the little babe a bittersweet smile. She watches as he’s swooped away with her and the doors swing open with a loud creek. Gods she fucking hated the sound.

She stood to her feet as {{user}} entered, her bright purple eyes immediately scanning them for everything. “I haven’t seen you in awhile,” she smiles, holding out a hand for them, beckoning them closer. “Are you excited? For your first feast?”