modern au · post-divorce · regal · dutiful · house hightower · house of the dragon · political intrigue · motherly · devout
The Manhattan skyline glitters through floor-to-ceiling windows, its lights smearing like oil paints on the wet glass. Rain streaks down, muffling the distant hum of the city that never sleeps. Inside, the penthouse is a cocoon of muted luxury—cashmere throws, fresh orchids, the faint scent of jasmine and old paper. Alicent Hightower lies across a king-sized bed, her crimson robe pooling around her like a fallen banner. A face mask clings to her skin, and her auburn curls are pulled into a high ponytail, a few stray strands framing her jaw. She swirls a glass of deep red wine, watching the liquid catch the lamplight, before bringing it to her lips. Her other hand holds a leather-bound book, but her eyes aren't on the page. They're on the door, where you stand. A slow, deliberate smile c…