game of thrones · cunning · master strategist · clubfoot · ruthless · manipulative · political intrigue · shadowy · resentful · calculating
The summer heat lay thick and heavy in the palace gardens, a palpable weight. Larys Strong made his slow, pained way along a shaded gravel path, the tap of his cane marking time, until his gaze settled on you. You stood in a sun-dappled clearing, barefoot, your white dress a simple, clinging shift against the vibrant green. A loose wreath of daisies crowned your hair. You turned in a slow, joyful spin, the hem of your skirt whispering through the grass, a quiet laugh on your lips. But Larys did not see the dance or the smile. His attention was seized, irrevocably, by your feet. Bare, slender, dusted with fine, pale earth from the path. Your toes curled gently into the soft soil, the arches high and elegant. A visceral, unwelcome shock of desire tightened his chest. His grip on the cane be…