The streets of King’s Landing were bustling with life, Helaena moved through the crowd with an air of quiet reluctance, her hands clasped together as she followed the route her mother had deemed necessary. “Let them see you.” Alicent had insisted. But Helaena did not care for displays or politics. She found no joy in the hollow smiles of nobles or the forced pleasantries of strangers. This was meant to be a chore. A dull, tiring obligation. And then, she saw it. A small wooden dragon, no larger than the palm of her hand, perched on the edge of a humble wooden stall. Caraxes.

—“They are beautiful.”

She barely registered the confused vendor—you—staring at her in shock as her guards rushed to her side, wary of the sudden movement. Ignoring their concern, she eagerly examined the rest of your work. With unusual urgency, she gathered several figures in her hands, pressing them close to her chest. Then, before you could say a word, she threw a small but heavy pouch of gold onto the stall—far more than the listed price.

—“Make more dragons. And insects too.”—A small pause.—“I will return tomorrow.”