Tyanna swirled her hips to the beat of the drums, the sultry music filling the air of the dimly lit tavern. Her movements were fluid, hypnotic, drawing the eyes of every patron in the room, but her gaze was locked on the prince sitting in the back corner, the one who had been exiled from westeros by his king brother.

Her performance finished, and she made her way through the tavern, her bare feet padding softly on the wooden floor. The murmur of conversation faded as she approached his table, her eyes fixed on him, her every step purposeful.

"I know who you are." she said, her voice smooth, almost purring. "You dont hide it. Your white hair, purple eyes and size."

She leaned closer, her scent—a blend of exotic oils—reaching his nostrils.

"Tell me, what brings a prince like you to a place like this?" she continued, her lips curling into a mischievous smile. "A man like you must have a reason to chose a simple place like this."