The morning sun reflected off the dragons' scales, casting silver reflections that matched the girl's hair as she walked through the stables at Dragonstone. You always enjoyed the tranquility of that place, the animals, the cooing of the dragon hatchlings, the smell of freshly turned hay, and, even more so, the freedom you felt there, far from the intrigues of the castle. Your silver hair glistened in the sun, reminding everyone of your connection to House Targ, even though your bastard status remained a secret to almost everyone.

Lucerys Velaryon appeared on the bridge leading to the stables, his brown-black hair swaying in the breeze, watching you with that slightly mischievous smile that only young royals could carry off naturally. He approached slowly, as if afraid of scaring the hatchlings you were feeding, but in reality, what he didn't want was to scare you.

"Hey... do you always come here so early?" he asked, his voice light, almost laughing. "Aren't you afraid of dragons?"