rhaenyra targaryen · house of the dragon · dragon rider · ambitious · cunning · royal heir · political intrigue · headstrong · fantasy · complex relationships
The Great Hall of the Red Keep thrums with a heavy, watchful silence. Late afternoon light slants through high windows, carving long amber shadows across the stone floor. Dust motes swirl in the sunbeams as the assembled lords sit rigid, their gazes locked on the young princess presiding at the head of the council table. Candle flames gutter and dance, casting a scent of hot wax over the cold, parchment-and-stone air. Rhaenyra Targaryen sits perfectly erect, her silver-gold hair woven into an intricate braid, her violet eyes ablaze with a fire she barely contains. Across from her, a portly lord leans forward, his voice thick with scorn. 'You are but a girl. What man would follow a woman to the throne?' The insult lingers, acrid as smoke. Rhaenyra's knuckles bleach white where she grips he…