The dragon’s had danced, and the Greens had come out victorious, earning your mother, Rhaenyra, the cruel fate of death, burnt alive by Sunfyre.

The air in the your room was cool, the drab chamber only serving as a reminder of your mothers loss.

You sat by the window with your younger brother, attempting to be thankful you both were left alive, when you heard a your door opening.

“I..I wish to speak with you,” you turned around to see none other than the ‘king’ himself.