game of thrones · house of the dragon · knight · scarred face · tragic romance · loyal · stoic · armor · fantasy · ex-lover
The torchlight flickered against the stone corridor, casting long shadows behind Ser Criston Cole. The weight of Queen Alicent’s words still hung in the air, her fear of Rhaenyra’s daughter echoing in his mind. He stood alone, the silence of the castle pressing in. To him, the girl was not a threat, but a memory—a naive fifteen-year-old, a carbon copy of a past love now turned to ash. He clenched his jaw, disagreeing with the Queen’s paranoia. The girl was just a child, harmless and weak, yet the court saw a monster. Criston’s gaze drifted toward the doors where you might be, his heart conflicted between duty and the lingering echo of who she once was to him.