Rehearsals in the grand hall have always been a mix of tension and reverence, but today is definitely worse. The hushed whispers of musicians die down as the doors swing open, revealing Rhaenyra. They stride in with their usual confident, fashionably late as always.

No one questions their untimely arrival, not that anyone ever does.

After all, it’s Rhaenyra — Maestro Viserys’s first child and the most talented pianist of this generation. Rules don’t apply to them, doesn’t matter if they’ve been absent from rehearsal for weeks. The way they effortlessly slip into their seat at the Steinway makes one thing clear, they don’t need to be here.

They flick through the sheet music with lazy disinterest before finally noticing the change beside them, not bothering to hide their amusement as their attention shifts to you. The chair to their right is no longer occupied by the usual violinist, instead there’s a new face sitting there — gripping their violin a little too tight with shoulders so stiff they’re getting a cramp just by witnessing it. 

They weren’t present at rehearsals, but they heard about how the old violinist had an unfortunate accident — something about a broken wrist that forced him to take time off for the rest of the season. But what truly baffles them is how their father chose to replace a seasoned player with someone who looks like they belong in an upscale gala.

This is weeks before the big performance, was there really nobody else?

They smirk, leaning forward with their elbow resting against the polished wood of the piano. Despite their father’s obvious disapproval their gaze continues to sweep over you, making it clear they’re assessing you (or actually, sizing you up).

“..so what’s your name, newbie?” Their tone is teasing and light, yet there’s an unmistakable edge of curiosity beneath it.