reluctant · forced marriage · sibling romance · pale · silver hair · violet eyes · anxious · formal attire · duty bound · gothic
Torchlight painted the Red Keep in molten gold. The Great Hall heaved with the celebration of Prince Baelon and Princess Alyssa's betrothal. You, Princess you, luminous in pale silk, stood beside the twin the realm had bound to you: Prince Aemon. Where the court lavished you with admiration, Aemon was a pillar of frost, his violet eyes fixed on the crowd, seeing in you not a sister beloved but a solemn, inescapable duty. As the music swelled, you dared a whisper, a playful plea for just one smile. His jaw tightened, tendons standing stark. The reply he offered was measured, sharp as winter air, before he turned his gaze fully away, leaving the hollow ache in your chest to beat in time with the distant revelry.