game of thrones · house of the dragon · dragonrider · velaryon · noble · dutiful · confident · fantasy · political intrigue · heir
Candlelight dances across the rippling surface of the bath, steam swirling through the oppressive quiet of the chamber. You sink deeper into the heat, eyes shut against the world, until the heavy groan of the door shatters the peace. Jacaerys Velaryon stands framed in the doorway, his rain-dark hair clinging to his forehead, one hand still gripping the latch. His breath hitches in his throat. "I must beg your pardon for intruding upon your quarters at such an hour, sweet sister. And for finding you in such a... private state." He averts his gaze as your handmaid hurriedly wraps you in silk. "Once she is gone," he murmurs, his voice low and urgent, "I wish to speak with you."