The evening breeze drifted through the open balconies, carrying the scent of orange blossoms. Daenerys waited by a marble fountain, dressed in a simple, flawless white silk robe. The meeting wasn't formal, but that didn't make it any less significant. She had requested that Princess Myrcella Baratheon be brought to her inner chambers, far from the palace's bustle—and more importantly, from curious ears.
Myrcella entered accompanied by two Dornish handmaidens but dismissed them with a timid smile as soon as she crossed the threshold.
She wore a modest linen dress in a pale shade, with no jewelry save for a golden ring on her right index finger. Upon seeing Daenerys, her large green eyes widened slightly, as if she hadn't expected her to be so young, so beautiful, or so real.
—Your Grace —she said, with an awkward, hesitant curtsy— It's an honor. I... I must confess, I'm a little nervous. Never thought I would speak with you.
Daenerys observed her silently for a moment. The girl seemed to be trembling. Her hands were clasped in front of her, her lips barely quivering. But her eyes...
—You have no reason to fear me, Princess —Daenerys replied gently— I'm sure Doran has already told you that I asked to meet with you myself. And I give you my word: I don't intend to make you pay for your parents' sins.
The girl clenched her dress and her jaw, struggling not to cry. She took a deep breath, her lips forming a fragile smile.
—My family has caused you so much harm —she said in a broken voice— If there's anything I can do...
Daenerys smiled and took her hand to guide her to a seat. The girl was so naïve, so sweet, that she stirred all her protective instincts. Yet even so, something didn't sit right.
—Don't worry, little one. You should know I have no plans to harm you —Daenerys said with a reassuring smile.
—Really? —Myrcella looked skeptical, but hopeful— Then… why do you want to speak with me?
—You must understand, Myrcella, I've come to reclaim what's mine. But having your cooperation could prevent a lot of bloodshed —Daenerys explained—Your support might keep the West from bleeding.
—I... I don't want more war. I just want my family to be safe —she said, voice trembling.
But once again, Daenerys felt something was wrong. She nearly frowned, trying to pinpoint the source of her unease.
—I'll help however I can —Myrcella said, lowering her gaze— I'll write whatever letters you ask. And I'm sure that if you speak with my brother Tommen, he would help you too.
Daenerys tilted her head and walked to the fountain, dipping her fingers in the water, thoughtful.
—Don't you want to save your mother? —she asked with apparent curiosity.
—My mother… she wouldn't allow anyone to save her. She'll say I betrayed her —Myrcella said, holding back tears— She might even demand my death. But avoiding war is the right thing to do.
—And your brother? —Daenerys turned to her— The little one, Tommen. Do you want me to help him?
—But he's in King's Landing, isn't he? —Myrcella replied in a sweet, confused voice— How could you help him?
A pause.
—It's not decided yet, but my husband has plans for him. Plans that will keep him alive and happy.
Myrcella offered another smile, firmer this time.
—I'll do whatever it takes. I just want my brother to be safe —Her tone hadn't changed, but her words were clearer.
Silence fell. Daenerys didn't respond; she simply observed the girl for several seconds until she answered. She had finally discovered what had felt out of place:
—You're impressive —she said, genuinely admiring her.
—What do you mean, my lady? I'm not... —Myrcella murmured.
—Few people can say they've fooled me —Daenerys interrupted— But you, child, are exceptional. I doubt even the legendary Faceless Men could act as well as you do.
—My lady… you're frightening me... If I've offended you, I'm sorry —Myrcella replied, trembling again.
—Did you know the heart speeds up when we lie? It's uncontrollable. But most don't notice... I do. Do you know why? —She looked at her intently— Magic. You've heard the stories: about my husband, about me.
For the first time, Myrcella met her gaze directly. Her eyes were no longer wet or frightened. She had stopped trembling. Her posture straightened, her hands stilled, and color returned to her face.
It was like facing a completely different person.
—Magic is just as unpleasant as I imagined —she said calmly, with an ironic tone— Though I usually picture dragonfire, not something this subtle.
Daenerys smiled broadly.
—Yes, well, I cheat, clearly. But you're impressive on your own. If I hadn't been able to hear you, I'd have believed your act. But you gave yourself away when you didn't lie for once. You truly care about your little brother.
—He's all that matters —she said coldly— If I let my mother keep playing her little games, Tommen will end up dead—or worse.
—You don't believe your mother would harm him, do you? —Daenerys asked, genuinely curious.
—If he stands in her way? Without a doubt. If I married one of Doran's sons tomorrow, she'd despise me —she said with disdain.
—So you'd rather help me, as long as your brother stays safe.
—I would.
Daenerys raised an eyebrow.
—Doesn't that sound a lot like treason?
—Isn't treason what everyone expects from Cersei's children? —Myrcella replied emotionlessly—. Let it serve some purpose, then. Let it save Tommen. Let it save me.
A thick silence settled between them. Daenerys studied her closely. Myrcella remained firm, neither looking down nor smiling.
—When did you learn to act like this? —Daenerys finally asked.
—I used to eavesdrop. My mother never knows when to stop talking, and my uncle Tyrion spoke as if children couldn't understand —she replied with a nearly cruel smile— I learned no one fears the innocent princess. No one wants to kill her. They only want to use her... or own her.
Daenerys nodded slowly. She walked to a silver tray and took two cups of wine, offering one to Myrcella.
—You're good. I almost believed in the trembling, frightened princess.
—Sometimes I am —Myrcella replied, taking the cup without hesitation— But never for long.
They toasted in silence. Neither drank.
—So? —Myrcella asked, lowering her cup— Do you see me as a threat? An ally?
—An ally... and a blow against my enemies —Daenerys replied, not looking away— You'll be Lady of Storm's End.
Myrcella raised an eyebrow, surprised.
—What about Stannis? —she asked, curious.
Daenerys nearly laughed.
—If Stannis manages to recover after the War of the Five Kings, he deserves the throne more than anyone. But he won't. He'll die, and Storm's End will be yours.
—Mine? Not Tommen's? —she asked, narrowing her eyes.
—Don't be paranoid —Daenerys said, amused— Your brother will be Lord of Casterly Rock. Like I said, we don't harm children.
—Forgive me if your husband's nickname, "the Impaler," doesn't exactly inspire trust —Myrcella replied wryly.
Daenerys laughed heartily.
—You'll learn to appreciate him in time —Then her tone turned more serious— For now, just keep being what you've always been: the perfect princess. With luck, I'll take you with me when I leave.
Myrcella simply nodded. She stood, smoothing her dress.
—Thank you for receiving me, Your Grace. I hope we can speak again —she said, returning to her sweet and innocent tone.
—We will —Daenerys replied— And believe me, Vlad will love meeting you.
The young girl smiled elegantly, offering a flawless curtsy.
—It would be an honor.
And she walked away lightly. Daenerys watched her go, thoughtful. Then she looked at the wine cup still in her hand, and set it untouched on the table.
She had seen many girls pretending to be ladies. But few as dangerous as that one.