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    Summary

    "Look at you," the King’s breath was putrid upon her face. "Look at you! A true dragon. Not a drop of Dornish mud in your veins. The blood of Old Valyria, pure and uncorrupted."
    Tears burned behind her eyes, causing her glare to only grow deeper.
    “Such fire.” The King chortles, “And wasted on your father. You’ll marry her off to some Dornish Lord, have her bred like a mare and pollute our line further.” The look he gives her father is vicious and filled with such hatred.
    Heart pounding, bile in her throat building, Maekara squirmed against his iron grip that only intensified in strength.
    “I will not have it. I won’t.” The King was snarling to the room at large, “Marry the girl to Daemon, together have them make the blood of the dragon pure once more. Do not shake your head, girl.” There is spit on her face, repugnant and sticky. She cannot feel her fingers; the grip upon her wrist is so tight “You will not be Queen if your father has his way. Would you not like to be Queen, sweetling? To do your duty and purify our line?”
    Maekara would like nothing less.

    Series
    Language:
    English
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