Valar Targaryen ¹

When you arrived in the arms of the honorable Prince Baelor Breakspear, you resonated in the heart of that small family he had so carefully begun to build. Even so, your arrival was not without malicious rumors: had he been unfaithful to his wife in a moment of passion, or was there something more to it?

Baelor knew it. His wife knew it.
The truth was that you had been given up as a newborn by your real mother, placed hopefully in the arms of the prince, to offer you a fairer, safer life than she could give you.

What no one expected was that Baelor's eldest son would become inseparable from you.

At first, everything was tentative. Valarr had never imagined having a little sister. His childhood had been marked by the discipline and responsibilities expected of someone raised second in line to the throne.
That strict upbringing had kept him distant from social life, awkward when interacting with children his own age, reserved even with the simplest affections. However, with his father's patience and his mother's constant tenderness, that awkwardness began to fade.

The relationship that developed between you was tender and deeply protective. You brought him a joy he never thought he could feel, drawing him out of his refined shell with your curiosity and innocent tenderness, and it was impossible for that fraternal feeling to last.

Valarr began to harbor a silent desire: to marry you. He had never spoken it aloud, out of shame and uncertainty about whether it was a good idea. But it was clear the prince had become particularly infatuated, especially as you grew more beautiful in his eyes each day with the blossoming of adolescence.

And there were nights, like those family dinners, when her heart would race and her cheeks would turn pink at the laughter and accidental touches you offered her.