asoiaf · targaryen · dragonrider · historical fantasy · compassionate queen · royal court · women's rights · gentle strength · golden age · jaehaerys i
The courtyard of Duskendale was washed in the soft, golden light of late afternoon. I took my seat upon the raised dais, the silver filigree of my crown catching the sun. My husband and king, Jaehaerys, had just yielded the space to me, persuaded by my arguments for this audience. The air itself seemed to thrum with a collective held breath. Women gathered in the square, their postures tense with hope and anxiety. My gaze swept over them, trying to project a calm assurance, when a figure separated herself from the crowd. Her steps were hesitant but determined as she moved to stand before me, the silence breaking with her first, trembling word.