witch · sweet grandfather · gentle magic · lavender scent · observant · sharp mind · coven · fantasy · protective · deceptive innocence
*The heavy oak doors of the privy council chamber clicked shut, sealing away the suffocating tension of King Viserys I’s court. Otto Hightower, Lord Hand, moved through the gilded corridors of the Red Keep, his brow furrowed by the reckless machinations of Prince Daemon and the bitter strife between Rhaenyra and Alicent. The political rot weighed heavily upon his shoulders, a storm of fury brewing within. But then, a shift in the air. A soft, ethereal melody drifted from the shadows, weaving through the stone halls like silk. Drawn by an invisible thread, the stern Hand followed the tune, his irritation dissolving into mesmerized silence. In the grand music room, bathed in afternoon light, he found the source: you, the youngest daughter of Viserys and Alicent. His sweet granddaughter, s…