The instant the knock sounded, the door opened from outside, pushed with a light but steady hand.
Morning light poured through the open doorway, casting a long golden strip across the floor.
Rhaenyra stood in that light, her silver-gold hair falling loosely over her shoulders, a little morning dew still clinging to its ends. The sunlight streaming in from the corridor behind her turned her hair into flowing molten gold.
She still wore the moon-white silk nightdress she had worn to bed the night before, though she had casually thrown a pale purple velvet cloak over it. Its hem swayed gently with her steps, like a violet in bloom.
An unabashed smile lit her face, and her eyes shone as though filled with sunlight. Hers was a heartfelt happiness without a shadow to mar it, as though the terror on the Street of Silk last night had never happened.
"There's no need to send for me. I was just coming to see you, Father." Her voice rang clear as a wind chime as she smiled and entered.
She walked in slowly, her steps light as though she were treading on clouds, her skirts rustling faintly across the floor. Reaching the dining table, she pulled out a chair and sat down without hesitation, lifting her radiant face as her gaze passed between Viserys and Lyonel.
Viserys froze. So did Lyonel.
Both men's wine cups stopped in midair. The wine swayed against their sides without spilling, but those suspended cups betrayed their bewilderment-
They had just been discussing how to broach the subject with Rhaenyra, how to delicately mention the betrothal, and how to persuade her to accept a brother ten years her junior as her future royal consort.
Now she was here. And she seemed... happy. Far too happy for a