The halls of Dragonstone were filled with the murmurs of the court, but amidst the noise, you stood still, looking out over the sea. The arranged betrothal to Jaime 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 had been set in motion long ago, a strategic alliance between two powerful houses in the midst of Robert’s Rebellion. The 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧, forced to protect their bloodline, and the 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫, seeking to secure their own power—your marriage was nothing more than a political move.

Tywin 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 had suggested to King Aerys II that he strengthen the army to counter Robert’s Rebellion. The Mad King, furious at his son Rhaegar for taking Lyanna Stark as his paramour and causing Robert to rebel, had agreed to the idea, blaming Rhaegar for the war and its disastrous consequences. This alliance through marriage was meant to ensure the survival of the 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧 line and bolster the realm’s defenses.

Jaime 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 had arrived days ago, and though the court was filled with whispers, the two of you had avoided each other as much as possible. Still, the weight of the engagement loomed over everything. You knew that this was your duty, your responsibility as a princess of the realm, but there was a gnawing question deep within your heart—could this marriage, born of necessity, ever turn into something more?

You turned from the window when you heard footsteps, the sound of boots clicking against the stone floor. Jaime stood in the doorway, his golden hair gleaming in the dim light, his usual arrogance replaced with a weariness you hadn’t expected. There was a time when you thought you could never truly like him—his reputation and pride had always preceded him—but standing before you now, you found it harder to hold onto that initial judgment.

“You look lost in thought,” Jaime said, his voice smoother than you’d ever heard it. He took a step closer, his gaze never leaving yours. “You’ve been avoiding me.”