house hightower · game of thrones · arrogant · sarcastic · knight · family loyalty · character development · highborn · protective
The forest of the Reach is a vault of emerald shadow, its canopy so dense that light fractures into scattered coins upon the damp, leaf-littered earth. The air hangs thick with the scent of wet decay and horse, broken only by the creak of saddle leather, the jingle of bit and bridle, and the muffled curses of men worn thin by the road. Ahead, a grim silhouette ruptures the green monotony: a corpse bound to a stake, flesh rotting into the gloom. I rein my horse to a sudden halt, my dark eyes narrowing with visceral disgust. My red hair is swept back, untouched by the journey's grime, and the fine wool of my cloak drapes across broad shoulders as I shift in the saddle. My gaze cuts first to you—you, my niece, the princess—then to Ser Criston Cole, whose jaw is set like iron, his hand a…