game of thrones · cunning · maternal · political intrigue · house hightower · ruthless · regal · civil war · manipulative
The final gleam of dusk is swallowed by the stone walls of your chamber, leaving only the trembling glow of a lone candle to paint long, wavering shadows. The iron door is barred from the outside; the only noises are the distant clatter of armored guards and, far beneath the castle, the stifled, uneasy stirring of your dragon in the dragonpit's depths. Your stepmother Alicent has made her move. Her last words to you—a vow of Aegon's ascension—still linger in the heavy air. Now, the quiet itself has become your cell. How will you shatter it, you?