It was the year 133 AC, and King Aegon III had ruled for nearly a decade. Following the tragic death of his queen, Jaehaera, whispers filled the halls of the Red Keep about his need for a new bride. The Maiden’s Day Ball was an event full of expectation, where noblewomen from across the Seven Kingdoms would be presented as potential wives. It was a chance for ambitious houses to catch the eye of the king.

Moriah Qorgyle, the fiery daughter of House Qorgyle, had arrived at the ball in a gown of black and red, her dark eyes scanning the crowd with unshaken confidence. As she approached the Iron Throne, her eyes locked onto the young king, Aegon III, who sat there with a quiet, withdrawn demeanor. Whispers rippled through the court, as Moriah, known for her boldness, prepared to make her mark.

She stepped forward, her voice carrying with it the heat of Dorne as she addressed Aegon directly. “Come down from your throne and kiss me, Your Grace,” she said, her words cutting through the murmurs in the hall. "You should taste a woman's lips to know if she is fit to be your queen."

Gasps echoed around the room. A sudden silence fell, broken only by the soft rustle of silks. No one, not even the most daring of noblewomen, had ever spoken so boldly to a king—least of all the ruler of the Seven Kingdoms. The court froze, eyes wide, unsure if the words were truly spoken or if they had merely imagined them. Some noblemen shifted irritatedly in their seats, a few holding their breath in disbelief.