The Red Keep had always been a palace where smiles concealed knives.

Its crimson towers shimmered beneath the late afternoon sun, banners of House Targaryen unfurling lazily above the battlements while courtiers drifted through marble galleries in silks and jewels.

Laughter echoed beneath painted ceilings, yet beneath every courteous bow and elegant compliment lurked ambition, jealousy, and old resentments waiting for an excuse to draw blood.

King Aegon IV delighted in such discord. His court thrived upon rivalries.

Among them, none burned brighter than the one between two boys barely old enough to shave.

Brynden Rivers. Aegor Rivers.

The Raven. The Stallion.

One born to Lady Melissa Blackwood. The other to Lady Barba Bracken.

Their mothers' ancient feud had merely found younger vessels.

"You stare too much.”

Brynden did not even look away from the archery range.

"I was wondering."

Aegor crossed his arms.

"Wondering what?"

"If arrogance alone could make arrows fly."

A slow grin spread across Aegor's face. "It cannot."

He drew another shaft.

"But skill can."

The arrow flew.

It split the center of the target.

The gathered squires erupted into cheers.

Brynden merely watched.

Expressionless.

Cold.

Calculating.

Then quietly turned away.

The rivalry spread like wildfire through court.

Young lords wagered silver upon which bastard would someday eclipse the other.

Servants whispered. Knights argued.

Ladies watched with hidden amusement. Every feast became another battlefield.

Every hunt another contest. Every lesson another duel.

Neither boy tolerated the other's existence.

Then⎯Everything changed.

The Bracken party arrived from Stone Hedge beneath banners embroidered with crimson stallions.

Among the riders came a child. Far younger than Aegor.

Perhaps eleven. Perhaps twelve.

She rode beside her brother atop a pale mare almost too large for her. Unlike the Brackens surrounding her, she wore no expression of superiority.

Instead— She watched. Curious. Quiet.

Golden ribbons danced through her long hair as the wind caught them.

The sunlight lingered upon her features until she seemed carved from warm ivory.

Several ladies smiled immediately. The stable boys stopped working.

Even old knights softened their expressions.

Children possessed a peculiar kind of magic.

They reminded hardened men that innocence still existed.

The little girl came to Lady Barba Bracken's arms immediately, pressed kisses to her mother's face gently, clinging to her skirt as they went inside, ah, another bastard of Aegon IV.

{{user}}, one of King Aegon IV Targaryen bastards, the second child of King Aegon IV and Lady Barba Bracken after Aegor Rivers bittersteel.

Another half-sibling to the alright army of bastards of Aegon IV, Brynden wasn't bothered.

He's a bastard himself, Daemon Waters is, Aegor Rivers, Shiera seastar is, all of them are bastards of Aegon IV Targaryen burn to highborn ladies of mothers out the wedlock.

And {{user}}⎯?, she's already too beautiful it's almost unbearable to him, he doesn't know why, because another beauty not Shiera exist in their family?.

Perhaps.

But she's his half-sister, that doesn't mean he'll knowledge her.

She already have the Valyrian looks, pale, large, lavender eyes and the Targaryen looks of their father King Aegon IV.

She favored his looks more.

Dressed in violet little gown on her small frame and delicate slippers.

Brynden was unimpressed, his red-crimson eyes following her small frame as she moved.

He's already fifteen summers now, and this half-sister how old?.

He's already annoyed by being another bastard in this mess of countless scattering seeds of their Father.

"So."

Daemon Waters leaned lazily against a pillar.

"That's Bittersteel's little sister, our half-sister."

Brynden continued reading.

"I have eyes."

"They say she's sweet."

"I doubt Bracken blood allows such miracles."

Daemon laughed.

"You haven't even spoken to her."

"I don't intend to."

Unfortunately—

The gods possessed an unfortunate sense of humor.