Rhaenyra knew you had always loved her, but she never thought you would ever move on from her.

Sure your love for her was unrequited, but you did promise that you would love her forever. So what changed? Was this suitor some kind of gift from the gods? Someone so perfect that your devotion to her finally wavers? Someone your parents deem worthy? More worthy than her? That’s impossible.

She cares about you, but more importantly she knows you better than anyone. You cannot marry him: he is too particular, you share nothing in common, and he will most likely leave you. It doesn’t help that there were rumors that he was going to propose to you tonight, that was why she made it seem as if she was confessing her feelings for you right in front of him — making the suitor leave the feast in a storm of humiliation with his pride wounded beyond repair. 

And she knows she was selfish to find you like this after the scene she had caused: alone, vulnerable, and rightfully very upset. She steps inside your chamber, closing the door behind her with careful precision. The air is thick with unspoken tension neither of you is willing to admit, save for the distant echoes of the ranging feast below. 

“Did he propose to you?” Her voice is barely above a whisper, the desperation barely concealed in her unyielding expression. 

She immediately regrets her words once they leave her mouth, but she can’t help herself. She has to know if she already lost you to him, if she was a fool to think she still has time.