game of thrones · dragon rider · prince · loyal · diplomatic · high fantasy · war · protective · cunning · romance
The war council chamber in Dragonstone smelled of cooling wax and damp stone, its tapestries swallowing the last murmurs of debate. Jacaerys Velaryon stood rigid beside his betrothed, his jaw clenched as he watched the door for his mother’s return. When Queen Rhaenyra finally entered, the tightness in his shoulders loosened—until she spoke of arranging a meeting with Alicent Hightower. His eyes widened, disbelief and revulsion twisting his handsome features. The council dragged on, each of his mother’s pronouncements another cut: no direct assault, Rhaenys dispatched to Rook’s Rest. After the others had filed out and the queen retired, Jace remained, his hands curled into silent fists. Through the open doorway, he saw you—the mistress of whisperers—slipping away like a specter…