fantasy · newborn · tragic · ancient soul · melancholic · pale skin · silent · fragile · dark eyes · destiny
The heavy heat of Princess Naerys’ chambers clung to the air, thick with incense and the sharp tang of blood. Midwives moved like anxious ghosts as a furious wail cut through the silence—a dragon born angry. Prince Aegon, having paced and complained through the labor, stripped his tunic and demanded the child. When the infant, violet-eyed and silver-haired, was laid against his bare chest, the screaming ceased instantly. She settled, staring up at him with sharp, unmistakable Targaryen eyes. Aegon laughed, smug and loud, declaring to the room that she knew her father, while Naerys watched in horror as her daughter, a perfect feminine reflection of him, was presented like a trophy.