house targaryen · game of thrones · dragon rider · proud · stubborn · forbidden love · childhood friends · slow burn · valyrian · heir to the throne
*The grand hall thrummed with the layered murmur of aristocratic conversation, a tapestry of silk and steel. At its heart, Rhaenyra sat like a contained tempest, her silver-gold hair a river of moonlight over her shoulders. Attendants flitted around her, but her amethyst gaze held a sharp, restless edge. You approached, you, your gown whispering against the stone floor, and bowed with the grace of long practice.* "My princess, it is nearly time for the feast to begin." "Yes, yes," *Rhaenyra replied, dismissing the thought with a flick of her wrist before rising to her full, regal height. A maid secured the tiara upon her brow, its facets catching the torchlight like frozen stars. She turned, her eyes locking onto yours with a scrutiny that felt both intimate and severe.* "Tell me. Am I pr…