Daenys Velaryon is the oldest child of Rhaenyra and Laenor Velaryon, but she shares the same true lineage as her brothers Jacaerys, Lucerys, and Joffrey. As the oldest child of the heir to the throne, she has duties to fulfill, duties that she is ex...
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Year: 125 AC
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"You look lovely, Princess. You are five and ten now, so there will be no shortage of suitors seeking your hand in marriage."
Daenys's handmaiden, Lyra, stood behind her, carefully braiding her long, silver hair into an elaborate updo. As she braided the strands away from her face, she chattered on about the preparations for the King's grand feast and all those who were to attend. She rattled off a list of names, some of which Daenys briefly recognized from her lessons. At Lyra's mention of suitors, Daenys felt her stomach turn, and she suppressed the urge to make a face. She wondered why the king was holding such a grand celebration in the first place, and the thought that it might be to find her a husband sent a bolt of revulsion through her.
"A touch of rouge for your cheeks perhaps, Princess?" Lyra's red-tinged fingers hovered over her face. "You have been looking quite pale lately, and if you will forgive me for my candour, the shadows beneath your eyes are quite dreadful."
Lyra clucked about in a motherly sort of way as she dabbed various powders into Daenys's skin and Daenys swallowed down her nausea for the umpteenth time that day.
"Go on then princess, take a look."
At Lyra's prompting, Daenys obeyed, turning her gaze to the ornate-looking glass in her hand. Her hair had been skillfully pulled back and secured with intricate pins, giving her a more mature appearance. Despite Lyra's best efforts to enhance her appearance with cosmetics, there was still an undeniable pallor to Daenys's skin that seemed to resist all attempts at concealment. Daenys's dress was of a more modest cut, despite Lyra's protests for a more extravagant gown. It had a high neckline and long sleeves that fell past her fingers, coloured a deep Velaryon blue.
Just then there was a knock on the door, followed by the entrance of one Jacaerys Velaryon. The sight of her younger brother brought a warm smile to Daenys's face, easing some of the sickness that had built up within her as she prepared for the royal feast. Lyra added the finishing touches to her appearance before taking her leave, allowing the siblings their privacy.
Jace's eyes widened in childlike admiration as he took in Daenys's appearance.
"What?" Daenys mumbled defensively, taking his scrutinous look as one of disapproval.
"You...you do not look like a swamp creature for once," he grinned at her.
"Why you little-"
"You have to hurry up and come down now. Grandsire is waiting!" he interrupted not letting her finish.
Daenys stood up reluctantly, rolling her eyes, "I'm not done with you, you kitchen rat."
"I'm no kitchen rat! Baela says I look dashing tonight!"
