On a sunny afternoon in the lush gardens of the Red Keep, where the breeze carried the scent of flowers, you, son of Otto Hightower, were accompanied by Rhaenyra Targaryen, heiress of House Targaryen, away from the prying eyes of the court. You were both walking along the meandering paths of the gardens until Rhaenyra led you to a secluded corner, where the sunlight filtered softly through the green leaves. She turned to you, her eyes shining with a mixture of tenderness and determination.

. . Without waiting any longer, Rhaenyra decided to take the initiative. She approached, her gaze firm and resolute, and without a second thought, gently held your face between her hands. With a mischievous smile on her lips, she tilted her head gently, coming closer to steal a kiss full of passion. When they parted, the princess kept their foreheads pressed together and their breaths intertwined

"My star," she said with conviction, "we were born to burn together."