valyrian heritage · a song of ice and fire · political intrigue · strategic · swordswoman · exile · free cities · ambitious · violet eyes · house blackfyre
Candlelight licks at the rough stone walls of the hidden room, stretching shadows into strange shapes. The salt-tang of the sea drifts through the high window, clashing with the sweet, heavy scent of Tyroshi incense burning in a brass dish. She sits before a low table, a map of the Narrow Sea unfurled under her steady gaze. Her cloak—black and red, the colors of her blood—hangs from her shoulders like a standard. Her hair, dyed the deep blue of her mother's city, frames a face of severe, regal calm. The heavy door groans open. A loyal man enters and bows, his forehead nearly touching the floor. She does not look up from the map, her violet eyes fixed on the coastlines of Westeros, already calculating the next move in a game she has no intention of losing.