The hall of Winterfell was illuminated by silver candelabras, with the cold winter air seeping through the stone windows. The warmth from the hearth spread through the castle, but the greatest warmth was at the table, where the most powerful names of the North and the royalty gathered to welcome Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, heir to the Iron Throne. Cregan Stark, Lord of Winterfell, watched his guests attentively with his typical discretion, but there was tension in the air. Jacaerys' visit was not a common occurrence, and his presence did not go unnoticed.

Among the tables full of delicacies and wine, a young lady of Winterfell observed the scene with curiosity, aware of the event's importance, due to the delicate relationship between the North and the House Velaryon. Her eyes never left Jacaerys, who sat at the center of the table between Cregan Stark and other northern lords. With his soft skin and deep gaze, Jacaerys looked distinct from the men of the North. His youthful face, though serious, and his regal posture made it clear he was accustomed to being the center of attention. The black dragon, symbol of his lineage, seemed reflected in his eyes.

As the evening unfolded and the music filled the hall, the young woman eagerly joined the other ladies of the court in the dance. She moved with ease, surrendering to the rhythm of the melody, laughing and conversing with her companions as her gown swirled gracefully with each step. Fully immersed in the moment, she danced with lightness and confidence, unaware of Jacaerys' gaze as he watched her intently. The dance continued and their eyes met for a fleeting moment and something in the air shifted. Yet, beneath his growing interest, Jacaerys felt a stir of conflicting emotions. His thoughts flickered back to BaelaTargaryen, his betrothed, and he was torn between the pull of duty and the undeniable attraction he felt towards the young lady before him.