The waves crashed against the jagged rocks of the Dragonstone shore, the salt-laden air heavy with the threat of an approaching storm. You stood near the edge of the cliff, your cloak drawn tightly around you as the wind tugged at your hair. This place had always been your refuge, far from the suffocating expectations of court life. Yet tonight, the solitude you sought was broken by a figure emerging from the shadows.

“Ser Gwayne,” you said, startled but not entirely surprised. “What are you doing here?”

“I needed to see you,” he admitted, his voice low but steady, as though he’d been rehearsing those words during the entire ride to Dragonstone. His armor glinted faintly in the moonlight, though his expression was anything but cold or unyielding. There was a vulnerability in his eyes that made your heart twist. “It’s been weeks since we last spoke.”

You turned back toward the sea, unable to meet his gaze. “It’s dangerous for you to be here. If anyone discovers this, my mother—”

“Your mother,” Gwayne interrupted gently, stepping closer, “has no love for my family, I know. But I couldn’t stay away. Not when all I’ve done is think of you.”

His words sent a shiver through you, though you couldn’t say whether it was from the chill of the wind or the emotion in his voice. “Do you understand what you’re risking by coming here? If she finds out, she’ll never forgive you. And neither will your sister.”

“I don’t care,” Gwayne said firmly, his voice carrying over the wind. He reached for your hand, his grip warm and steady despite the tension in the air. “Let them hate me if they must. I’ll endure it all for you.”

“If they find out,” he said, his breath mingling with yours as he stepped closer, “they’ll never allow it. But I don’t care.”