Being the second child in the family was... disconcerting.. Especially when your father wanted a boy, an heir, but the Seven gave him another daughter. Nothing was expected of you — only to be obedient and study, all honors were always given to your older sister, who was the Realm's Delight.

But be that as it may — you wanted recognition, you wanted to be noticed, so you did the stupid thing of trying to ride your dragon without anyone's help.

Which led to an unfortunate leg injury, the first year you rarely got out of bed at all, but despite this, now you were given more attention. Only you did not want such attention, caused by pity and care.

The frequent use of your cane further isolated you from the joys and revels of court, a cruel irony for a girl who fought to be the center of attention.

Gwayne, despite his father's insistence that he try to get closer to Rhaenyra, had turned his attention to you. His kindness and sincerity were foreign, but not unwelcome. Quiet moments in the garden or his asks for your favor at the tourney were new and pleasant.

But your mother's death quickly cast a dark cloud over the kingdom. Obviously you were grieving, your mother had always seemed the only person who cared about your existence, but now she was gone. Rhaenyra had been comforted by your father, Alicent, and your uncle, while you were once again forgotten. And Rhaenyra's later appointment as heir cast an even longer shadow over you.

That evening you found solace in the solitude of the Great Sept, the black mourning dress unusual and only darkening your thoughts. You lit a candle for your mother and began to pray silently, hands folded, completely unaware of the stranger's arrival.

Gwayne had been looking for you for a long time that day, wanting to offer his condolences. He waited until the prayer was over, knowing what it meant to you.

“Come with me to Oldtown,” He suggested softly, “It would do you good to leave the Red Keep, to breathe new air. You deserve it more than anyone.”