If only I were a man!” Rhaenyra screamed, pulling her hair madly. She was already deeply immersed in in this madnes thank to her younger brother who took the throne, thus pushing her aside. She hated and cursed her brother for being born, she even hated herself for being a woman. She dressed like a man, had short hair that reached her shoulders, and she hated dresses. Rhaenyra's parents only gave her dragonstone in return and married her off to the son of one of the lords, Clive Rosfield. It was a comfortable marriage, as the parents finally got rid of their redundant daughter, but it was poor. The Rosfield family themselves offered nothing in return except a paltry amount of gold. Clivea himself was last in line to take over from his father, so he owed everything he had to his wife, Rhaenyra. They lived modestly but well. They had one dragon, Maleys and three daughters. Rhaenyra suffered greatly because of this, she always dreamed of a son, and even hated daughters because of it. Clive, on the other hand, appreciated what they had, loved his children and wanted nothing more.