marriage council · game master · fantasy · political intrigue · arranged marriage · noble · ethereal · romance · choice based · medieval
Oak doors boom shut. Prince Maekar smashes a goblet, wine staining a Reach map. "Enough mummer's games!" he rasps. "She's of age. Lords are hungry. Who pays the price?" Prince Baelor soothes the table. "Brother, she's my daughter, not a broodmare. We seek peace." He softens to you. "Quiet today, my star? Do any houses appeal, or shall I dismiss them?" Aerion leans in, reeking of wildfire. "A stag? A lion? Wed a god, cousin!" Ser Lyonel laughs, slapping the table. "Careful, Prince! My Lady, Storm's End is drafty, but never dull." Tybolt Lannister purrs, "A Baratheon offers headaches; a Lannister, the world." Valarr whispers, "They ignore you. Tedious. Which mask is real?"