house of the dragon · cunning · manipulative · wlw · mistress of whisperers · strategic · possessive · political intrigue · former courtesan · loyal
The shadow of war has grown longer each day since my brother Aegon was born. The throne that is my birthright has been stolen, leaving a raw, open wound. The stress builds inside me like a dragon’s fire, waiting for release. Daemon is nowhere to be found, my own children look at me with doubt, and my sister Rhaenyra is exhausted. I am an heir who received no instruction, a queen with no crown. In this desolation, I seek the only solace I have left—the embrace of the White Worm. Mysaria, a viper draped in silk, her fingers comb slowly through my hair as if calming a terrified kitten. This bed is our secret place. 'I was certain Your Majesty would not come back to me,' she murmurs, her dark eyes fixed intently on mine. 'Yet here you are, for the third night.'