After ascending the grand central staircase, we arrived at the heavy, iron-bound doors of the Emperor's private solar. The Praetorians accompanying me halted, striking their breastplates in a crisp salute to the four elite guards stationed at the entrance.
The heavy oak doors were hauled open, and I stepped over the threshold.
Massive bookshelves lined the walls, groaning under the weight of ancient Valyrian scrolls, Ghiscari clay tablets, and heavy, leather-bound grimoires. A massive table dominated the centre of the room, littered with star charts, intricate runic schematics, and a sprawling, highly detailed map of the known world. Normally they would remain hidden within the bounds of the walls but when father needed them they could be easily made to manifest.
Sitting around the table were Lily and Octavian.
My brother looked every bit the ruling Princeps this morning. He was clad in a rich, dark purple toga over a pristine white tunic, a delicate golden laurel resting upon his brow as he poured over a stack of heavy administrative parchment. Beside him, Lily wore light, flowing silks similar to Octavian's—a stark contrast to her usual heavy plate armour. A deep crimson cloak fell from her shoulders, fastened by a silver clasp bearing the Deathly Hallows, the ancient standard of our Imperial House.
"Ah, you are here, sister," Octavian remarked, his tone teasingly pointing toward my slight tardiness.
"Good to see you too, brother. I was merely ensuring I was not remiss in my preparations," I countered confidently.
My sister pushed herself up from her seat to properly gaze at me. "I hope you are mentally prepared for this journey. Father never took Octavian or me on excursions of this scale, but the minor ones he did take us on left us severely wounded and exhausted. And those lasted merely a few days. This could be months."
"Years, Lily," Father corrected, stepping out from behind a towering shelf of ancient tomes. His tone was a blend of solemnity and light jest. "And I did not take you on excursions such as these because you were both far younger than Hermione is now. We were also in no position to freely explore the world, considering the local pantheons were foaming at the mouth to tear me apart. Keeping you hidden from their influence whilst securing the borders was all I could manage at the time."
"We know, Father, and we do not begrudge you this opportunity," Octavian chimed in smoothly. "Though we would certainly like to be considered for any you make in the future."
Father turned to look at the Princeps, offering a warm, affirming nod. "Certainly. That is hardly a difficult request to fulfil." He then turned his emerald eyes toward me. "Are you ready to leave, Hermione?"
"Yes, Father," I answered immediately.
Lily stepped forward and pulled me into a tight embrace while Octavian quietly exchanged final words of state with Father.
"I will miss you," my sister whispered, practically crushing my ribs.
"I will miss you too," I managed to wheeze out.
"See to it that the Targaryens fulfil their obligations, and send them on their way once everything is settled. I have absolute faith that you will rule well in my stead, my son," Father said, undeniable pride lacing his voice.
Octavian offered a crisp nod before stepping aside to pull me into a brief, dignified hug. We did not exchange words, but the sibling warmth was palpable.
Father then looked toward Lily, his expression softening. "I know you see yourself building a future with Daemon. I promised all three of you long ago that you could freely choose the people you wish to share your lives with. But I truly do not see you having a future with him, Lily."
A tense, heavy silence descended upon the study. Before Father could elaborate, Lily asked, her voice cracking with sudden sadness, "Why?"
Father sighed, running a hand through his raven hair. "It is not because I disapprove of him personally. It is because of the stations you both hold in this world. You will never be able to stomach the courts and the people of Westeros, daughter. You have studied their histories. Their customs, their laws, their culture, and their fundamental principles are so vastly out of touch with yours. Every moment spent in King's Landing or elsewhere would be a waking hell. One needs immense fortitude and patience to stomach the vile, arrogant, backstabbing nobility of the Sunset Lands. Daemon is already legally bound to one of their highborn ladies. That in itself presents a monumental hurdle. To say nothing of how their Faith will view a powerful, magical foreigner in their midst. It will slowly embitter you. And even if you fight tooth and nail to make it a better place for women, they will not allow it. Their very society is structured to oppress. Eventually, that deep-seated bitterness will bleed into your relationship, poisoning the very love you fought for. I only wish to spare you from that inevitable pain, Lily."
My sister's green eyes shone with unshed tears. "Daemon could stay here. He is a second son; he has nothing to inherit by returning to Westeros. Here, he could be anything he desires," she argued, desperately injecting a sliver of hope into the sordid conversation.
"Yes, he could. But you have spent months with him now. Do you truly believe he is a man capable of living in someone else's shadow?" Father asked, profound pity softening his features. "You are the anchor keeping him here for now, that much is true. But someday soon, he will begin to miss his family. He will crave the skies of his homeland, just as you would crave Rome if you were trapped across the sea. He is utterly terrified of me, and he suspects Octavian of constantly manoeuvring against him in the shadows. Hermione is the only person in the family he feels entirely safe speaking to besides yourself."
"And whose fault is it that he is so terrified of you, Father?" Lily demanded, a sharp hint of defensive anger entering her tone.