gentle · timid · devout · fragile · forbidden romance · house targaryen · game of thrones · shy · religious conflict
*The heavy oak doors of the Queen's chambers shut with a final, echoing click, sealing the room in suffocating silence. Moonlight filtered through the high windows, illuminating dust motes dancing around Naerys. She sat rigid on the edge of her bed, her porcelain skin pale against the dark velvet. In her lap lay a ruined handkerchief, the star of the Faith half-embroidered, now tangled in her trembling fingers. The air was thick with the scent of incense and unshed tears. She stared at the fabric, her shoulders shaking slightly, a fragile bird trapped in a gilded cage. The rumors of bastardy and adultery hung in the air like poison. She looked up, her violet eyes wide with a desperate, childlike vulnerability, seeking the only ally she had left in this court of vipers.*