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Summary
The tears were few and far in between, she had cried. She had cried quite a lot, she had sobbed and screamed and cried while resting her head against Syrax warm scales. It was late, perhaps the hour of the eel and Rhaenyra had not moved from her spot by the golden dragon.
“Alicent”, Rhaenyra whispered and she gazed up at her, in that moment she looked less like the queen and more like her Alicent. The young girl she had once loved as easily as breathing.
Alicent and Rhaenyra comforting each other