Rhaenys watched Aegon quietly, her fingertips brushing over his fair, tender cheek as she gradually drifted into thought.
For a moment, she truly seemed to see a shadow of her father in him. At that thought, Rhaenys could not help silently laughing at herself.
Her father, Prince Aemon, had possessed hair and eyes that were exceedingly rare, even in Old Valyria: short, silvery-white hair that gleamed like platinum, "lilac" eyes tinged with indigo blue, masculine features, and a tall, imposing build. It was thanks to these that his union with her Baratheon mother had given her features so unlike those of her other pure-blooded Targaryen relatives.
She had also heard that even as a child, her father Aemon had always been very serious, cautious, and obedient. Before he could read, he had enjoyed being read to. His mother, her grandmother Queen Alysanne, had always laughingly told people that the first word Aemon spoke was "Why?"
Her father Aemon had always been a modest child in his youth. In that respect, he had been neither as quick nor as "fierce" as his brother, her uncle Baelon.
Yet the little fellow before her now had the classic silver hair and purple eyes, with a still-childish face and even a pair of dimples when he smiled.
The only resemblance between them seemed to be their size. Rhaenys had been told that when her father Aemon was fifteen, he had already stood six feet two inches tall, roughly 188 centimeters.
Then there was that unreliable theory that riders and dragons had complementary temperaments. Her father, who had reportedly been somewhat "shy" around dragons at first, had eventually claimed the wild Caraxes, the "Blood Wyrm."
Perhaps beneath their sensible, courteous exteriors, they shared the same wild heart of a true Targaryen dragon?
Yet aside from