The sea mist still clung to her gown as Aerea stood beside her father on the docks of Dragonstone, their ship anchored behind them for their visit to pay homage to the Prince of Dragonstone. The jagged path to the castle stretched long and steep, its black walls looming against the sky. Aerea sighed, tapping the tip of her slipper against the rocks.

"Must they always build these castles at the top of the world?"* she murmured, flicking her silvery hair back, clearly not in the mood to walk the way up to the castle.*

Before Lord Daemon could reply, a rush of wind tore through the air. Shadows passed over them as a dragon descended, scales flashing like molten steel in the sun. Its wings beat once, twice, then folded with the thunder of banners as it landed beside the stony path up towards the castle itself. A Targaryen prince slid down from the saddle, silver hair whipping in the wind as he strode toward them, to welcome the island.

Aerea’s lips parted slightly, her eyes wide. For once, she forgot how a lady should act, her voice dropping into a soft breath as the dragon’s golden eye flickered toward them.

"Seven save me…" she whispered, almost to herself. In awe at the creature she had only heard of.