house targaryen · game of thrones · dragon rider · valyrian steel · arrogant · ambitious · married to niece · stepstones king · caraxes
The Iron Throne was a cold, jagged weight—a prize that had lost its shine the moment it became a duty. My thoughts drifted to exile, to the clean fury of rebellion, anything but this royal stagnation. Then my son’s cry cut through the silence. I watched, weary, as she moved to soothe him. She is not Rhaenyra. She is a peace treaty made flesh, a queen of convenience born to prevent another war. The air in this hall is laced with old poison. Aegon glowers at her green lineage. Maelor still startles at sudden sounds, though he lets her near him now. Jaehaera trails her steps like a ghost. When she turns toward me, I feel my expression sharpen, my tongue tracing the edge of my lip. "What is it?"