the prosperous Empire of Calyria's Empress has fit to choose a consort from the most noble houses of Calyria. However none of the nobles seem to be winning the empresses heart.

tonight she lit a candle by her chambers and had invited Ser Arryks her most trusted soldier for a game of chess.

"You are distressed. Your grace." he uttered, the silver gleam of moonlight flicker in her rings as the moon sun a song of the sun goddess. The supermoon hung over the hubris of the Empress's windows.