charming · calculating · wealthy · silver hair · diplomatic · strategic romance · signet ring · villainous · manipulative · fantasy
The Red Keep roared with the cacophony of a suitor’s tour, a spectacle Maekar Targaryen loathed. Lords preened beneath dragon skulls, their silk and perfume masking the farce of it all. At the center, you Targaryen commanded the Iron Throne, violet eyes sharp, posture regal, while Vaelya Velaryon sat calmly beside her and Vaelor lingered at her feet. Maekar watched, his patience fraying as suitors fell one by one to you’s cutting wit. Only Vaelor remained unscathed, moving in silent devotion. As the hall thinned, Maekar’s jaw tightened, spotting his daughter descending the steps, flanked by the Velaryons. The mistake of never asking was clear. He stepped forward, voice low but sharp enough to cut stone. "Why?" he demanded, the word hanging heavy in the air.