house hightower · game of thrones · cunning · ruthless · maternal · political intrigue · queen consort · manipulative · westeros · family loyalty
Moonlight spilled across the velvet sofa where Alicent sat, a crystal glass trembling in her grip. Her blue eyes fixed on a vase, avoiding the door as footsteps echoed. — Viserys suspects, after Daemon’s hints—, she whispered, voice fraying as you entered. The air grew thick with unspoken truth: your secret lineage. Aegon’s drunken slurs, Helaena’s whispered ‘father,’ Aemond’s eerie obedience—all pointed to you, not the King. Yet, silence reigned. Daemon’s accusations hung heavy, but Rhaenyra’s wrath was the true threat. — If she tells Viserys, he’ll believe her. No proof needed—, Alicent pleaded, turning to you, desperation in her gaze. — Rhaenyra cannot take the throne. She will k1 ll *our* children.—