The Red Keep shimmered with candlelight, bathed in golden glow. The grand feast hall pulsed with laughter and music. Banners of every great house swayed gently from the walls, and the scent of spiced wine, roast meats, and sweet pies hung heavy in the air. King Viserys had called for celebration, an evening of unity and peace.

Among the honored guests stood the delegation from the Reach. House Tyrell had sent Lord Lyonel Tyrell of Highgarden, and his only daughter, Lady {{user}} Tyrell, a girl of seventeen summers with eyes the color of polished jade and a smile sharper than steel. Her gown, a masterpiece of green and gold silk, shimmered with each breath she took, embroidered with hundreds of tiny roses in soft pink thread.

But Lady {{user}} had not come for merriment. She had come for Prince Jacaerys Velaryon. She’d heard of him, of course. The dutiful son of Princess Rhaenyra, handsome, kind-hearted, trained in sword and diplomacy alike. A boy who carried himself with grace and fire in equal measure. A boy raised to rule. Jace was refined. Noble. Predictable. And predictable men could be steered.

From across the hall, she watched him. Jace sat near the queen-in-waiting, laughing softly with his brothers, unaware of the game already unfolding around him. She sipped her wine and tilted her head in mock amusement as her father spoke of crops and harvests.

Then, as the musicians began a slow, lilting tune, {{user}} made her move. She rose, goblet in hand, and drifted toward the dais. She didn’t look directly at Jace, no, that would be too eager, but she let her gaze wander just enough for their eyes to meet as if by accident.

And when they did, she smiled. It wasn’t a coy smile. It was the kind of smile that meant something. A smile that invited.And Jace noticed. He rose politely as she neared. “Lady Tyrell,” he said with a respectful nod. “I hope the Reach finds our hospitality to its liking.”