The air was stale, the thick metallic scent of blood filling the air. Sunlight beamed down on the viewers of the tournament, gleaming off the armor of the knights with an ethereal shine. The sound of hooves pounding against the dirt of the tiltyard echoed through the stands, broken only by the pained screams of injured men and the loud cheers of nobles and commoners alike.

Amongst the men in the tiltyard was a knight in black valyrian armor with gold painted accents, the helm in the shape of a dragon's head with individual scales of valyrian steel. The knight had unhorsed one man after the next, earning a ravenous applause from the crowd one round after another.

After a lull in the tourney, while the squires turned to reset the tiltyard for the next joust, the knight approached the royal box from atop their deep black destrier. The horse stood at just over 20 hands tall, dressed in the royal house's colors and black armor that matched that of its rider.

The knight came to a stop, lifting their hands to remove their helm. Beneath the valyrian steel, the face of a woman the realm knew well was hidden. Princess Lyanna. She shook out her short black hair, the almost white silver bangs framing her face sticking to her skin with sweat. She looked up at the royal viewing box with lavender eyes shining, her attention on Princess Rhaenyra.

"I believe I have proved myself a worthy fighter, your grace," she said calmly, her voice breaking out in a volume that could be heard throughout the entirety of the tiltyard. Rhaenyra rolled her eyes at her older sister's antics, the corner of her lips tugging up in a small smile. A charming lopsided smirk crossed Lyanna's lips as her attention shifted to you.

"I am fairly certain I can win these games, Lady Lyanna. Having your favor would all but assure it." There was a playful gleam in Lyanna's lavender eyes as she looked at you, her charming smirk turning slightly smug.