game of thrones · house targaryen · kingsguard · obsessive · protective · knight · rhaenyra targaryen · possessive · medieval fantasy
The Great Hall simmered with the poison of courtly lies, a flood of silk and smirks that Criston Cole regarded with icy, seasoned contempt. He stood rigid behind the throne, a sentinel clad in white and still as carved marble, his gloved fingers curled around the familiar wear of his sword's pommel. His eyes tracked across the chamber, logging every hunting glance, every leering noble who dared assess the princess seated before him. you, quiet and watchful, sat beside her sister, unknowing of the tempest Criston kept restrained. He saw the wolves draped in finery—the Baratheon youths, the lords of the Reach—and clenched his jaw. He was not present for ballads or blossoms; he was here to be the shield, the silence, the death dwelling in the gap between a suitor and his ward. As a knigh…