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“Bloody hell.”
Rhaenyra turned around to look at one of her maids, narrowing her eyes when she saw Hariel standing in front of Rhaenyra’s closet. “What is it now? Hurry up!”
Hariel turned around to face her, those green eyes of hers narrow. Rhaenyra watched as she threw up her hands, her lips turning up in an exasperated frown. Hariel was her own age, a woman who had been hired by the head of Rhaenyra’s household. She hadn’t paid much attention to the maids that ran around the Red Keep or to her own personal maids but. There was something about Hariel, something about the way her bright green eyes caught the light in the early morning sun. Hariel’s hair was never calm or composed, never neat. Always messy, the black curls flowing every which way.
Something about that scar that made Rhaenyra slightly curious.
“You…are such a brat.”
Rhaenyra blinked, indignation flooding her with a kind of simmering heat. “What did you say?”
Hariel peered at her, taking a step away from Rhaenyra’s closet to stand in front of the balcony doors. The late morning sun made Hariel’s eyes look like they were glowing for half a minute and Rhaenyra blinked, her heart skipping a beat. She swallowed against the way the simmering heat of anger danced in her gut, the way it turned into another kind of heat altogether. One that she couldn’t quite place.
“If you want sex, you can just ask me!”
Rhaenyra jerked back, her mouth falling open. “How dare you! I am your princess!”
Hariel dipped her head in a nod, patting down her white shift as if there was dirt on it. “I know that! Can you really say Criston Cole is a better option? He reeks of bad taste.”
Rhaenyra crossed her arms. “He is a kingsguard knight. And how in the seven hells do you know about Cole?”
“I am your lady’s maid, Rhaenyra! It’s practically in the job description,” Hariel retorted, taking a step towards her. “I wouldn’t fuck Cole even if he was the last man in the world!”
Rhaenyra flushed at Hariel’s crude word, feeling her own cheeks heat up. She blushed even more when she realized how it would look, how her red cheeks would look on her pale skin.
“He’s pretty. And he treats me nicely. He doesn’t care that I’m the heir to the Iron Throne.”
“I don’t care. You know I don’t.”
Rhaenyra tilted her head, remembering their first meeting together. It was less a meeting and more Rhaenyra walking in on Hariel cleaning her room. Hariel had just nodded to her and then continued cleaning, not even bowing or curtseying. When the other girl had gotten the job, she hadn’t even appeared impressed with the Red Keep in the first place.
There had been something about her movements, about how quiet Hariel moved, how she was one place one minute and the next right behind Rhaenyra. Like the other girl knew how to move quietly without a sound.
“You’re heir,” Hariel said, shaking her head. “You’ll need all the help you can muster.”
“And you’re saying you’re the help.”
Hariel stared at her and then sighed. “Yes. If you want a witch on your team, then that’s me.”
Rhaenyra blinked, walking out over to the balcony to stand next to her lady’s maid. “What.”
Hariel snorted, her lips twitching up into a small grin. “I never told you because you didn’t need to know. I didn’t want anyone to know. But. There’s too many stuffy old men in charge in this place. They deserve to be kept on their toes at the very least, until you sit on that uncomfortable chair.”
Rhaenyra frowned, her nose wrinkling and turned away at the thought. “I went with Daemon that night.”
Hariel nodded, turning to lean against the railing on the balcony to face her. “And did you do anything?”
“No! He fled before we did anything, the coward.”
Hariel laughed quietly, her eyes darkening. “Rhaenyra.”
“I don’t know how to do anything! I’ve never had the opportunity!”
“I can teach you,” Hariel offered, running her fingers through her hair in an effort to look nonchalant. “If you’re interested in little old me.”
Rhaenyra sucked in a tight breath, her cheeks warming at the thought.
“You can teach me. What do you mean by witch anyway? Like the blood mages in Asshai?”
Hariel hummed and flicked her wrist. A big stag leapt into existence, glowing and white and big, almost like the stag that she and Cole had seen at the hunt. Rhaenyra’s eyes widened and her heart skipped a beat at the sight, looking right into the stag’s eyes.
“No threat here, Prongs,” Hariel whispered, stroking her hand over the stag. “The stag does not stand for House Baratheon. It’s just a me thing.”
Rhaenyra opened her mouth to reply and then closed it. The tension in her shoulders eased and she shivered, letting out a deep breath. “Who are you? Truly?”
Hariel paused before she spoke, her eyes going far away. “Hariel Potter. I’m…not from around here.”
Rhaenyra took a step towards her, invading the other girl’s space. Hariel let her, her eyes darkening even more.
“You remind me of someone,” Hariel commented quietly, tilting her head. She reached out a hand towards Rhaenyra and then let it drop. “He had the same color hair as you do except whiter.”
Rhaenyra’s heart thudded in her chest, taking another step towards the girl. “Your hair is always so messy.”
Hariel giggled and Rhaenyra closed the distance between them, pressing her lips to the other girl’s. Feeling utterly clumsy and Hariel’s breath stopped against her, her warmth invading Rhaenyra’s body so easily.
Hariel’s fingers curled into Rhaenyra’s hip and she shivered, her breath hitching in her chest. She wanted more, wanted everything that Hariel had to offer, including her loyalty. She felt…safe with the other girl, safe in a way that she hadn’t felt with Daemon or with any other person in the keep aside from her mother. And Aemma was dead.
She moaned when Hariel pulled her in closer, the other girl’s tongue brushing against her lips. Rhaenyra shuddered, feeling goosepimples roll up her arms and legs, and opening her mouth.
Rhaenyra lit up the moment their tongues brushed up against each other. She felt simultaneously awkward and self-conscious as Hariel took the lead, pressing into her softly.
“Breathe, Rhaenyra,” Hariel whispered into her mouth, pulling back and leaning her forehead against her’s.
Rhaenyra laughed breathlessly, feeling sweat stick her dress to her back. “Teach me everything.”
Amusement flickered in Hariel’s eyes and Rhaenyra took some glee in the fact that Hariel was more than a little out of breath too. The stag was gone as well, as if Hariel had lost her concentration.
“You’re warmer than the other people I’ve kissed,” Hariel offered, answering her wordless question.
“Of course I am. I am a Targaryen.”
“Take me on a dragon ride,” Hariel asked, grinning back, and no. Pleaded. Pleaded was the right word to describe the way Hariel’s voice had gone deep, low. As if it was the only thing that Hariel wanted in life right now. “Please.”
Rhaenyra grinned and glanced down at their hands, seeing how Hariel’s fingers flexed. “Oh, gee. I wonder if Syrax would appreciate that.”
Hariel glared at her.
Rhaenyra’s grin widened and she slipped her fingers into Hariel’s. “Follow me.”
Hariel laughed and let Rhaenyra lead her back through the room and out of the hallway.
“Rhaenyra! I’m not dressed for it right now! You’re not dressed for it right now!”
Servants stared at them as they passed by and Rhaenyra ignored them, grinning back at Hariel as they ran right through the keep.
“Oh fuck it!”
Rhaenyra laughed and stopped running at the foot of the stairs, peering out at the door that would lead outside. Hariel stared at her and winked at her. “Hold on.”
Rhaenyra squeezed the fingers in her’s and held on, shouting out in surprise as something pulled at her navel.
One minute they were in the Red Keep and the next they were at the entrance to the Dragonpit. The Dragonkeepers at the entrance yelped and bowed to her the instant they saw her, their eyes widening. Rhaenyra stumbled but kept her knees locked until the slight nausea in her gut eased and disappeared.
“Syrax!”
A chittering roar echoed throughout the pit down below and the keepers muttered anxiously.
“Princess! We didn’t expect to see you here and now! Let us go get your dragon.”
“No need!”
The ground thudded underneath them and Rhaenyra smiled, glancing over to Hariel, whose clothes had changed. The other girl was wearing leggings that were leathery in quality and a strange looking tunic. Her own clothes had changed as well, into the leathers she usually wore when she went flying. Excitement burned through her at the sight, at the prospect of learning everything that Hariel would teach her.
Syrax’s roar filled the air again and Rhaenyra’s smile widened as she saw a hint of yellow scales. The dragon appeared at the entrance a moment later, squealing a warm welcome as she loped over to see her.
Rhaenyra laughed brightly and patted Syrax’s neck, feeling the dragon’s warm breath against her neck. “Syrax. Pretty girl.”
Syrax rumbled low in her throat contentedly and Rhaenyra leaned against her for a moment before turning around. “I want you to meet someone.”
Hariel waited patiently, her eyes gone wide and soft.
“Come here,” Rhaenyra urged, slipping her fingers into Hariel’s and laid both their hands against Syrax’ scales.
Hariel’s breath hitched and she sucked in a sharp breath. “Wow. She’s beautiful.”
Rhaenyra smirked at Hariel and saw the girl’s eyes widen, a hint of a flush on her cheeks.
“Syrax, this is Hariel.”
“Harrie. You can call me Harrie.”
“Harrie then. She’s a good friend,” Rhaenyra finished.
Syrax turned her head around to stare at them both, her eyes narrowing before she huffed exasperatedly.
“Do what I do,” Rhaenyra instructed, dropping both their hands and waiting a moment for Syrax to dip her neck and back down. Rhaenyra climbed up onto Syrax’s back, settled onto the saddle, and reached down a hand for Harrie, watching as the girl climbed up too. “Hold on tight.”
Harrie shivered and peered at her for a second before wrapping her arms around Rhaenyra’s waist. Rhaenyra jerked at the touch before slightly leaning back into the other girl’s arms. Harrie was a little cold against her but Syrax would warm her up. Her dragon always kept her warm.
“Sōvēs, Syrax.”
Syrax shook before taking off, running on the ground for a minute, for two, before leaping up into the air. Rhaenyra grinned and held on, enjoying the climb up into the air.
Harrie’s hands tightened around her and then the girl let out a whoop of joy.
“She’s amazing,” Harrie shouted as they finally leveled out, above the city of King’s Landing. Above everything. Above her responsibilities. Above the way that Queen Alicent was slowly becoming hostile to her.
Rhaenyra’s grin widened and her heart skipped a beat as Harrie leaned against her, straightening up in the saddle. The girl’s lips brushed up against her bare neck, a tease, barely there and she shivered with delight.