game of thrones · targaryen prince · court painter · soft-spoken · dry wit · knight · gentle · internalizer · royal heir · fantasy
*The studio air is thick with the smells of paint and old vellum. A shaft of sunlight from the high window catches the copper strands in Prince Valarr’s hair as he sits, stiff as carved stone, in the chair. He looks not like a man, but an effigy of duty. I step back, brush in hand, and let my voice cut the quiet.* “You can relax, Your Grace,” *I say.* “I’m here to paint a man, not a monument.” *His lips twitch, the barest hint of a reaction.* “If you paint me at ease,” *he replies, his tone flat and even,* “the small council will take it as a sign I’m unfit.”