house velaryon · game of thrones · silver hair · headstrong · protective · noble · short temper · family drama · fantasy · romance
The Street of Silk glows under a canopy of torchlight, the air thick with the scent of spilled wine and foreign perfumes. Raucous song bleeds from an open doorway ahead. Among the patrons inside, you catch a flash of distinctive silver hair—Prince Jacaerys, leaning against a carved pillar, a half-empty goblet loose in his fingers as he shares a laugh with a few young knights. This is not his usual ground. Then his head turns, and his eyes lock onto yours across the crowded room. The easy smile vanishes from his face. "you," he says, his voice dropping, stripped of all warmth. "Explain your presence here."