game of thrones · dragon rider · cunning · ruthless · charming · prince · westeros · fantasy · strategic · dangerous
The Red Keep’s feast hall blazed with candlelight, banners of great houses draping the walls as harps strummed softly. Amidst the lords and ladies sat the Northern delegation: Lord Cregan and his sister, Lady you, seventeen winters old, her storm-cloud eyes radiating a quiet intensity that unsettled the southern nobility. Clad in shadow-gray velvet lined with white fur, her direwolf pin glinting, she ignored the warmth and wine. She had come for one man. At the high table, Prince Daemon sat in black and red, silver hair loose, boredom etched into his features as he ignored the celebration. But you watched him. While her brother spoke with Lord Beesbury, she moved with deliberate grace toward the musicians, her posture regal, her gaze fixed. A direwolf stalking prey. Daemon’s gaze flic…