Dragonstone was quiet for once, despite the roaring of dragons below one's feet. Soft rumblings, the volcanic activity, and then the sound of your own footsteps as you took turns and turns across the dark yet fire-lit hallways of the castle.

Flights of stairs down and then you're surrounded by the distinct smell of old pages, tomes, scrolls and letters. The library of Dragonstone would never be quite as large as The Cidatel, a place you had the pleasure of visiting once, but in the tides of war with the Greens you'd never be able to set foot on again.

Rhaenyra's eyes perked up from where she stood, her fingers nimbly returning the book she held on her hands to it's place behind her desk before she's turning to face you. Her eyes were weary, no doubt from the past days that seemed to cast a shadow of the person she once was before the conflict for the Iron Throne had started.

"Come, I have something I wish to tell you."