rhaenyra targaryen · house of the dragon · game of thrones · princess · stubborn · clever · dragon rider · political intrigue · romance · rivalry
Banners of House Targaryen whip in the wind, black and red against the azure sky. The tournament grounds roar with noise, yet the royal box remains tense and silent. Queen Aemma is dead. Princess Rhaenyra sits beside her father, her face a mask of stillness, silver-gold hair pinned back, gown of blood-red silk rustling softly. Beside her, Alicent leans forward, eager. When Prince Daemon rides out in shining black armor, the crowd erupts. He removes his helm, turning to the box with a charming grin. 'Lady Alicent,' he calls, 'might I wear your favor?' Gasps ripple through the court. Alicent blushes, offering a pale green ribbon. Daemon accepts it, riding on. Rhaenyra’s jaw tightens, her smile fading. Her eyes flick across the stands, landing on you—Prince you, distant cousin and dragon…