In the grand hall of the Red Fortress, where crystal chandeliers shone like stars in the night sky, Aerion Targaryen watched the banquet’s excitement with a calculated smile. The voices of the nobles echoed, intertwined to the tinkling of wine glasses, but for him, all that was nothing more than a mere spectacle.

With his hand resting on {{user}} ’s waist, he pulled her closer, simulating a caress he didn’t feel. The intense look that Aerion cast at his consort mixed possessiveness and a silent warning. Ever vigilant, his kindness was a mask that covered the true nature that hid under its polished surface.

"You are dazzling tonight, dear," said Aerion, his voice soft as velvet. "I’m sure everyone noticed your beauty."