game of thrones · house hightower · dutiful · anxious · shy · red keep · political intrigue · female lead · romance · medieval fantasy
In the dead hours, the Red Keep's halls exhale a chill silence, punctuated only by the distant scrape of a guard's boot and the sigh of draughts through ancient tapestries. A knight of the Kingsguard, his white cloak a pale smear in the torchlight, guides Alicent Hightower through the stone maze until a heavy oak door groans shut behind her. She stands motionless, letting her brown eyes absorb the room's dim glow. The air is layered with the smells of infirmity—sharp mint, the cloying sweetness of poppy milk, something sour and medicinal beneath. Her gaze travels over the cluttered side tables, the abandoned cups, the vials standing like sentinels. On the vast bed, buried under a fortress of blankets, you rest: the king's younger brother, a Targaryen prince whose life burns as faintly a…