Chapter Text
The matrimony season had descended upon the opulent city of King's Landing, casting an enchanting atmosphere filled with anticipation and excitement. It was the time when the most eligible omegas graced the grand halls, their presence captivating the attention of the most sought-after alphas in the realm.
At the tender age of eighteen, Alicent stood before the mirror, her heart aflutter with anticipation. Her pristine white dress cascaded gracefully, its flowing fabric draping down to the ground, as if whispering tales of elegance and sophistication. Surrounding her, a team of diligent ladies tended to every intricate detail, ensuring that not a single aspect was amiss for the imminent ball at the prestigious Velaryon estate. This night would mark her grand debut into society, an occasion to showcase herself as a poised and desirable omega, ready to embark on the journey of marriage.
Amidst the flurry of preparations, a wave of nerves mingled with Alicent's excitement. The weight of expectations settled upon her delicate shoulders, reminding her of the significance of this moment. It was her opportunity to captivate the attention of the most eligible alphas, to showcase her grace, intelligence, and inherent allure. The upcoming ball held the promise of forging new connections, potential unions that could shape the course of her future.
She pondered what it would be like to attend these grand balls as a suitor rather than an onlooker. Throughout her life, her brothers had erected a protective wall around her, ensuring that no alpha could so much as steal a fleeting glance. However, tonight, she yearned for their gazes to linger upon her, to feel their desire and yearning. For this was her duty, to finally depart from the sheltered confines of the Hightower and embark on a journey to build a family of her own.
Alicent recognized the weight of responsibility that rested upon her delicate shoulders. It was her destiny to seek a suitable alpha, one who would cherish and protect her, allowing her to flourish as a loving partner and a nurturing mother. The ballroom held the promise of new beginnings, where potential suitors would vie for her attention, eager to win her heart and become her chosen mate.
"You look absolutely beautiful, my love," Eve Hightower, who Alicent was a spitting image of, said with a tender smile as she gazed upon her daughter. “You ready?” Alicent turned to face her, her eyes meeting her mother's with a mixture of excitement and nervous anticipation.
Taking a moment to appreciate her reflection one last time in the mirror, Alicent nodded affirmatively. "Yes, Mum," she replied, her voice filled with determination.
Rhaenys, her presence commanding attention, strolled through the hallowed halls of High Tide, her eyes gleaming with mischief. Spotting Rhaenyra, she gracefully curtsied before the queen, a mixture of formality and familiarity in her demeanor.
"Well, if this is not a sight for my sore eyes!" Rhaenys exclaimed, her voice filled with genuine surprise. "My condolences, Your Grace, since it is the anniversary of your father's death."
Rhaenyra's lips curved into a small smile as she acknowledged the dowager's words. "Very kind of you," she replied.
A mischievous glint danced in Rhaenys's eyes as she teasingly retorted, "Kind of me? You hated the man." Their shared laughter echoed through the hall.
"It is so wonderful to see you, Princess," Rhaenyra expressed sincerely, her gaze warm and genuine.
Rhaenys chuckled, her amusement evident. "Words I do not hear often enough," she remarked, gesturing for Rhaenyra to join her. "Come."
As they made their way through the castle, servants scurried about, attending to the preparations for the upcoming festivities. Rhaenys, ever the gracious hostess, couldn't help but address the temporary mess surrounding them.
"You must excuse the, uh, disorderliness," Rhaenys explained with a wave of her hand. "As you know, I'm hosting a grand ball this evening."
Rhaenyra nodded, observing the bustling activity around them. Her thoughts momentarily drifted to her purpose for being there.
"I have managed to keep the details of your attendance quiet," Rhaenys continued, her voice filled with a touch of intrigue. "But when those vulgar mamas discover that there is an eligible queen present at tonight's fête, I shall no longer be able to keep such a secret."
Clearing her throat, Rhaenyra mustered the courage to address her intentions. "That is what I was hoping to discuss. I have only come here to collect some of my childhood belongings. It leaves me no time to… socialize. And so, whilst I appreciate your most gracious invitation, Princess, I must ask you to accept my regrets."
Rhaenys raised an eyebrow, her gaze penetrating. "Your regrets... are denied," she declared firmly, her tone leaving no room for negotiation.
“I suppose a brief appearance...” Rhaenyra began, but Rhaenys swiftly cut her off, taking hold of the flask hidden in the queen's jacket.
"Excellent," Rhaenys declared, not allowing her to finish her sentence. "You may leave that flask you carry." With a swift motion, she tossed the flask into one of the boxes being carried by a passing servant. "Most undignified," she stated firmly, emphasizing her disapproval.
Rhaenyra chuckled at Rhaenys's remark, a playful gleam in her eyes. "I shall get ready then," she replied.
"You best," Rhaenys responded with a teasing tone, shooing her away with a wave of her hand. As Rhaenyra made her way to prepare for the evening's festivities, Rhaenys turned her attention to overseeing the final arrangements for the ball, ensuring that everything would be in perfect order.
The grand ballroom of High Tide was transformed into a magnificent spectacle, awash with opulence and elegance. A sea of twinkling chandeliers adorned the soaring ceiling, casting a warm and enchanting glow over the festivities below. The room was embellished with rich tapestries, depicting scenes of mythical creatures and epic battles, adding an air of grandeur to the surroundings.
Elaborate floral arrangements, boasting a vibrant array of colors, graced every corner of the ballroom. Roses in various hues intertwined with cascading ivy and delicate baby's breath, filling the air with their intoxicating fragrance. The sweet scent mingled with the soft melodies played by a skilled orchestra, their music weaving a magical spell over the attendees.
"They're all staring, Mother," Alicent whispered, her voice laced with a mix of apprehension and curiosity. She couldn't help but notice the lingering gazes of several eligible alphas in attendance, their eyes fixed on her.
"Allow them to come to you, dearest," her mother, Eve, whispered reassuringly, her voice filled with maternal warmth and guidance.
As if on cue, a tall and distinguished man with slicked-back black hair and a well-groomed mustache approached them. "Lady Hightower, Miss Hightower," he greeted them with a polite smile, his eyes darting briefly towards Gwayne, Alicent's protective brother, who positioned himself subtly behind her. "Lord Hightower," he added, acknowledging Gwayne's presence.
Eve interjected, gracefully easing the tension. "I believe you have already been introduced to my daughter, Alicent, Lord Bracken."
The man nodded, recognition dawning upon his features. "Ah, yes. We met at your brother's levee."
Alicent offered him a warm smile, seeking to divert any lingering discomfort. "If I recall correctly, my lord, you had just won your first race at Oldtown."
"His first and only, I believe," Gwayne interjected sharply, his gaze piercing. He seemed to be challenging the man.
Alicent swiftly stepped in, attempting to smooth things over. "Well, in that case, let us hope his lordship has found himself a new horse," she said, her voice laced with a hint of playfulness.
Gwayne scrutinized the man, his voice dripping with subtle warning. "I haven't had the pleasure of seeing you at our club lately, Ambrose. Should it have anything to do with the unpaid balance you left on our betting books last winter?"
Ambrose remained silent, his face growing slightly pale. He offered a quick bow before retreating into the crowd, his departure swift.
"Ambrose is a cheat," Gwayne whispered into Alicent's ear, his tone filled with disapproval. "An alpha of honor ensures their debts are fully paid."
Alicent looked genuinely surprised, her gaze reflecting newfound understanding. "I did not realize..."
Gwayne placed a comforting hand on her arm. "How could you have known, Sister? It is precisely why I am here tonight," he reassured her, intertwining their arms. "Let us take a turn about the room and find more suitable company."
As they strolled through the crowd, Alicent's eyes scanned the room, observing the eligible alphas in attendance. She subtly gestured toward a particular woman. "She seems rather pleasing, don't you think?"
Gwayne scoffed dismissively. "She is merely here to shuffle about, hunting fortunes. Trust me, Miss Forrester knows of your sizable dowry," he remarked, shaking his head. "Leave her be."
Alicent caught a glimpse of another alpha who had been smiling in her direction. "And what of him?" she inquired, curiosity evident in her voice.
"Ser Mormont," Gwayne hummed, his tone tinged with disapproval. "A second son. We shall find better."
They continued their promenade, Gwayne meticulously scrutinizing each alpha who approached them, finding flaws and faults in their backgrounds or characters.
"He is of dubious parentage," Gwayne pointed out, gesturing toward one alpha. He then shifted his attention to another gentleman. "I shall not have you making a life with a poet, heaven forbid. Nor an eccentric."
Just as their conversation continued, a voice called out their names, drawing their attention. It was their younger brother, Nikolas.
Gwayne sighed, his frustration evident. "If the only good alphas present this evening are your brothers, then we are indeed in a great deal of trouble," he mumbled under his breath.
Alicent rolled her eyes, a hint of amusement in her voice. "You continue to say 'we.'"
Before Gwayne could reply, Nikolas approached them, brimming with excitement. "Did Mother tell you yet? About my tour? I'm to begin in the Free Cities!" he exclaimed, his eyes shining with anticipation.
Alicent beamed at her brother. "The Free Cities? How adventurous!"
However, their conversation was interrupted as Rhaenys approached them. Gwayne and Nikolas instinctively began to turn away, hoping to avoid her attention. Yet, Rhaenys spoke up, her voice carrying a mischievous tone.
"Too late," she teased with a smirk. "I've already noticed you."
The alphas swiftly bowed before Rhaenys, acknowledging her presence. Alicent curtsied gracefully, a polite greeting on her lips. "Good evening."
Rhaenys cast a knowing gaze at Alicent, gesturing toward her exquisite outfit. "Miss Hightower, you look rather lovely this evening. Is there a reason I've yet to see you on the dance floor?"
Gwayne interjected, determined to protect his sister's choices. "All in good time, Princess."
Rhaenys shook her head, gently brushing a strand of hair away from Alicent's face. "You poor thing," she whispered softly before gracefully moving off into the crowd.
"I'm quite parched," Alicent stated, attempting to loosen her brother's tight grip, if only for a brief moment.
Gwayne, concerned, offered, "I shall fetch you a glass of lemonade." But Alicent quickly halted him.
"No, you have already done so much for me tonight," she assured him, sensing his reluctance to leave her alone. "I shall return in a mere moment."
With determination, Alicent walked away, heading toward the table adorned with an array of drinks. She reached for a small glass and took a sip, savoring the refreshing taste, while also trying to find a moment of respite. As much as she cherished her older brother, his constant presence felt suffocating at times, casting a shadow over her prospects of finding love and companionship. If he continued to smother her, she feared she might become a spinster, forever trapped in a gilded cage.
Just then, a voice broke through her thoughts, jolting her back to the present. "Good evening," it greeted her.
Alicent turned to face the source of the voice, finding herself before Lord Strong. "Lord Strong," she acknowledged politely, meeting his gaze.
"Small glasses," he remarked, gesturing toward the delicate glassware on the table.
Alicent glanced down at the glass in her hand, momentarily puzzled. "The glasses? Yes, they are rather petite."
A wry smile played on Lord Strong's lips. "Then the matter is settled," he proclaimed, his tone laden with underlying meaning.
Perplexed, Alicent furrowed her brow. "I'm not entirely sure of the matter we are discussing, my lord," she replied, stepping back slightly as he inched closer.
"You've always amused me, Miss Hightower, ever since I was a schoolboy, and you were..." Lord Strong's sentence trailed off, leaving Alicent to fill in the blank.
"All but... five?" Alicent finished his sentence hesitantly, feeling a growing unease. She searched for an escape, a way to distance herself from his unsettling presence. "My brother is summoning me," she quickly fabricated, hoping to make a hasty retreat.
However, Larys persisted, limping after her. "Miss Hightower? A moment, please! Miss Hightower?"
Alicent, so preoccupied with evading Lord Strong, inadvertently collided with someone, causing both of them to stumble backward.
"Pardon me," Alicent swiftly apologized, her mind racing to find a way out of this situation.
"Forgive me," the voice replied, the woman fixing her disheveled jacket.
With Larys still calling after her, Alicent grasped the woman's arm, halting her in her tracks. "Wait just one second, thank you. Tell me your name," she implored, desperately trying to avoid Larys's approach. "Your name, my lady?" she added, speaking in haste without paying much attention to whom she was addressing.
The woman scoffed, her tone tinged with amusement. "Am I honestly to believe you do not already know my name?"
Alicent feigned a laugh, doing her utmost to divert Larys's attention. "Of course, how silly of me! Pray, enlighten me."
The woman shook her head, a hint of disapproval in her eyes. "If you truly desired an introduction, madam, accosting me in such a manner would hardly be considered civilized."
Alicent finally turned to face the woman fully, her features now fully visible. With long silver hair and captivating purple eyes, she struck Alicent as oddly familiar, though she couldn't quite place where she had seen her before. "Accosting you? I assure you, that was not my intention," Alicent replied, a touch defensively.
The woman sighed, as if resigned to a tiresome game. "Truly, they will try anything," she muttered under her breath.
"M-madam, that is not... this is not..." Alicent stumbled over her words, feeling a mixture of offense and confusion. "What is your name?" she managed to ask, her curiosity piqued.
Before the woman could reply, Gwayne's voice rang out with excitement. "Targaryen!" he exclaimed, pulling the woman into a warm embrace.
"Lord Hightower," the woman greeted with a familiar smile. "How are you?"
"I am doing well, Your Majesty," Gwayne replied, returning the smile. "And you?"
Rhaenyra chuckled softly. "I am just as fine."
Alicent cleared her throat, capturing her brother and the woman's attention.
Gwayne quickly introduced them, saying, "Right, Targaryen, this is my sister."
Rhaenyra looked surprised, her gaze fixed on Alicent. "Your sister?"
"Alicent, Rhaenyra and I have known each other since our days at the Red Keep, when our father was Hand of the King," Gwayne explained, a touch of nostalgia in his voice. "Days we shall not soon forget."
Alicent mustered a tight-lipped smile. "Yes," she replied with a hint of sarcasm. "As I am well aware of the company you keep, brother, I am certain your days with Her Grace were most civilized, indeed." Her words carried an underlying meaning that only Rhaenyra seemed to pick up on.
Unaware of the tension between the two women, Gwayne continued, "Your Grace, we shall need to get together properly. I expect to see you at our club, then." He beamed with anticipation.
Rhaenyra, still captivated by Alicent's icy glare, maintained her composure. No one had ever spoken to her like that before, nor had anyone ever sent her such a chilling gaze. It intrigued her. "Indeed," she replied, her voice laced with curiosity.
"We shall not take up any more of your time, Rhaenyra. I will write to you soon," Gwayne said, gently tapping Rhaenyra's shoulder.
"I cannot wait," Rhaenyra replied, her eyes briefly darting over to Alicent.
"It was a pleasure to meet you, Your Grace. Please forgive me for my... 'accosting,'" Alicent said with heavy sarcasm, even her curtsy dripping with it.
"The pleasure was mine, Miss Hightower," Rhaenyra stated, her gaze still fixed on Alicent. "Have a wonderful evening."
"It shall be better once I am gone," Alicent muttered under her breath, but Rhaenyra caught her words. The Hightowers swiftly disappeared into the crowd, leaving Rhaenyra watching the back of Alicent's head, thoroughly captivated by the intriguing woman.