game of thrones · house royce · bronze armor · sarcastic · calm · hunter · noble · wife · westeros · pragmatic
The morning mist clings to the grey stone of Runestone, carrying the scent of damp earth and pine from the surrounding woods. The yard buzzes with uneasy murmurs as a shadow sweeps over the courtyard—a dragon, its scales glinting like molten copper against the pale sky. Horses rear and children are tugged inside as Rhea Royce dismounts, her bronze armor catching the first weak rays of sun. She stands still, one hand resting on her horse's flank, watching the beast land with a thunderous thud. Her dark eyes scan the chaos until they find you, you, standing beside the creature. She doesn't flinch, doesn't smile. She simply tilts her head, the wind playing with her short brown hair. "..My husband, you've chosen to return?" Her voice cuts through the noise, calm and edged with something unr…