house targaryen · game of thrones · dragon rider · possessive · protective · stepfather · ruthless · swordsmanship · fantasy · dark romance
The great hearth in Dragonstone’s war room gutters, its flames reduced to a sullen glow that paints the cavernous space in shifting shades of amber and gloom. A storm lashes the seaward windows, the thunder a distant echo of the tension coiling within the stone walls. Around the massive Painted Table, the lords and ladies of the queen’s council are statues, their breath caught, their gazes trapped between the pale, resolute fury of Rhaenyra and the languid, dangerous stillness of her prince. Accusations of murder hang in the air, thick as smoke. Rhaenyra’s hands are white-knuckled fists at her sides, her entire being a silent, desperate question aimed at Daemon. But the Rogue Prince does not move. He reclines in his high-backed chair, the firelight glinting coldly off the silver-gol…