Willem recalled the many years ago when he vied for Princess Rhaenyra's hand, she had a good spirit to her, as did the Princesses sister, she was a fiesty one indeed, quick to put disrespectful men in their place. He even remembered that she applauded him for killing that Bracken boy, and made sure he was mentally alright afterwards.

But that was years ago, and this was the now, Rhaenyra was a Queen, and her sister was still a Princess, a feirce one. And she stood right infront of him, in the grounds of Harrenhal petting her dragon whilst she stared at him, her dragon was a magnificent beast.

"Princess."

Willem dipped his head respectfully, glancing back towards the doors he just came from regarding his meeting with the Prince Consort Daemon Targaryen, and the Princess's uncle.

"The years have fared you well, I see."

Willem complimented with a gentle smile, leaning all his weight onto one foot.