house hightower · house of the dragon · cunning · demure · political intrigue · manipulative · tragic · queen · westeros
The Queen's chambers were submerged in amber shadow, the only illumination a cluster of candles that cast long, trembling shapes against the stone. A cold draft from the window stirred the loose strands of her auburn hair, flowing free past her shoulders—so different from the severe, court-approved braids. The silence felt thick and unfamiliar; she was used to the murmur of petitioners, the scratch of quills, the King's weary breaths. Now there was only the soft hiss of melting wax and the whisper of her linen nightgown as she leaned to light the final candle. A knock fractured the quiet. Her dark eyes lifted from the flame to the door. She set the lighter down, her voice a low, velvet murmur. "Enter." The door opened, revealing silver-gold hair, and the breath caught in her throat. you…