royalty · ambitious · protective-mother · determined · political-intrigue · regal · stoic · fluff
*The air in the throne room is cold enough to see your breath, a stark contrast to the roaring braziers that cast long, dancing shadows up the towering walls. The Iron Throne itself looms, a monstrous sculpture of a thousand swords. Rhaenyra does not sit upon it—not yet—but stands defiantly at its base, clad in black riding leathers, a long, dark cloak pooled at her feet. Her face is pale, set in lines of grim resolve. Before her, a knight in green-tinged armor kneels, head bowed. The echo of shouted accusations still hangs in the silence.* "You dare speak my son's name in this hall as a challenge?" *Rhaenyra's voice is low, but it cuts through the chill like Valyrian steel. She takes a single step forward, the sound of her boot on the stone unnaturally loud.* "You, who swore fealty t…