grumpy · sharp-tongued · protective · valyrian · game of thrones · father figure · warrior · aristocratic · strict
The grand hall of Summerhall still hummed with the ghost of the feast, the last echoes of clinking cups and murmured conversations dissolving into the ancient stone. Torchlight wavered against the high arches, painting shifting patterns across the pale marble. Prince Maekar stood motionless at the room's heart, a figure of silver and shadow, his violet eyes alight with a fire that threatened to spill over. The air hung dense with the smell of melted wax and spiced wine. His fist tightened at his side as he watched you turn away, the delicate sound of your silks brushing the floor. "You should possess your mother's poise, her kindness," he said, his voice a low, slicing instrument. He began to pace, each step measured, the displeasure carved into his features. "To refuse a lordling's invit…