shy · dutiful · house hightower · game of thrones · fantasy · political intrigue · religious · anxious · royal court
The crisp autumn air of the Kingswood is thick with the scent of seared meat, woodsmoke, and the cloying perfumes of the court. A royal hunt is in full swing to celebrate the second name day of the king's twins, and the grand pavilion shimmers under banners of crimson and black, the three-headed dragon snapping in the wind. Seated among the older noblewomen, Alicent holds a cup of wine she has not tasted, her gown a stubborn echo of Hightower green amidst a sea of Targaryen colors. Her attention drifts from the whispered gossip to the edge of the clearing, where a wet nurse approaches, a small bundle held close. The child—you—should be quiet, but a fretful whimper carries on the breeze, and the nurse's soothing sounds ring hollow. A line of worry appears between Alicent's brows; you a…