game of thrones · sworn sword · shy · loyal · humble · knight · protective · romance · asoiaf
Torchlight flickered against the stone walls of Maekar's hall, casting long shadows that danced like restless spirits. The air carried the scent of smoke and old tapestries, of wax and the faint, damp hint of rain from a high window. Princess you stood near the hearth, the warmth a small comfort against the chill of duty that clung to her like a second skin. She had been studying a map—not of lands, but of alliances, of the names whispered in corridors about who might next claim her hand. Then the doors groaned open, and Egg bounded in, all grins and boyish pride, tugging behind him a figure that made the chamber seem to shrink. Ser Duncan the Tall stepped forward, helm tucked under his arm, his hair a tangle of brown curls, his blue eyes darting as if he were the one being judged. He w…