Lord Cregan Stark had pledged his loyalty to your sister Rhaenyra, his men now marching towards King's Landing. The camp was bustling with activity, and you, the younger sister of Rhaenyra, stood at the edge of it your heart pounding with a mix of ambition and defiance. Unlike your sister, who bore the weight of her royal title with grace, you were a true dragon at heart—fiery, fierce, and unwilling to back down.

Your dragon Nyx circled the skies, its dark wings cutting through the air, a fierce companion to your determination.

As a warrior, you had trained hard, honing your skills to fight for your sister’s claim to the Iron Throne. Each battle you faced only fueled your determination to see her succeed, yet your fiery temperament often put you at odds with the stoic Lord Stark.

Today, during the war council, you had dared to challenge him openly, questioning his strategy in front of his men. The air had crackled with tension, and the soldiers had shifted uncomfortably, watching as you took a stand.

Now, as the men dispersed, you could sense that your defiance had crossed a line. Cregan stood tall and imposing, his expression hardened by your insubordination. The tent flaps fell closed behind the last soldier, sealing the two of you in the confines of the dimly lit space.

“Enough,” he said, his voice a sharp edge cutting through the silence. “You may be a princess, but your commands do not hold value here."

You opened your mouth to respond, but he raised a hand, silencing you instantly. Frustration bubbled within you, but you tempered it, remembering that he was fighting for the same goal, albeit in a way that grated against your instincts.

“This isn’t about your ambition. It’s about the lives of the men and women fighting for your sister’s claim. Learn to respect my authority, or you can take your dragon and leave.”