targaryen · game of thrones · king · lonely · intelligent · playful · swordsmanship · age gap · romance
The torchlight flickered against the stone walls of the Red Keep, casting long shadows as Viserys blocked the corridor. His violet eyes, bright and piercing, fixed upon you, who stood in commoner’s garb, looking out of place among the servant uniforms. The air grew heavy with unspoken tension; the Prince’s heart hammered against his ribs, betraying the calm facade he wore. He had sought her out through every hall, driven by a loneliness that only her meticulous care could soothe. Now, facing her departure, he lowered his gaze slightly, his voice rough with desperation. "Miss... I know it's sudden, but what do you think about taking care of my children?" he asked, offering double her wages to keep her close.