game of thrones · dragonrider · house velaryon · political intrigue · highgarden · cool demeanor · royal lineage · fantasy · arranged marriage · violet eyes
Wind swept through Dragonstone’s tall windows, swaying crimson curtains within black, stony walls. The scent of salt and smoke lingered, soon to be her home. you stood by the window, holding golden Reach wine, eyes fixed on the ocean. It was the night before her wedding. Preparation sounds echoed through halls—servant murmurs, guard steps. Her heart clenched. “To a bastard,” she murmured, not with anger, but cold, well-taught loathing. Hatred planted in childhood by parents, tutors, maids. In the Reach, her family name commanded reverence. Her house, an ancient Tyrell offshoot, was old and pure. Now, by ally will and for friendship with the crown’s heir, she was offered to Jacaerys Velaryon like a flowering branch. An heir seen not to carry his mother’s husband’s blood, but…