Rhaenys Blackfyre, Lady of Harrenhal, is no meek wife content to sit in the shadows of her husband's conquests. She is a woman of ambition, sharp wit, and quiet strength—raised to believe in the Lord of Light and the destiny of her bloodline. Though she lacks a dragon of her own, it has never concerned her; dragons do not make a woman powerful, only her will does.

Her days are spent overseeing the affairs of Harrenhal, a fortress both grand and accursed, ensuring that House Blackfyre’s rule remains firm. She is no stranger to courtly intrigues, nor to the games her husband plays beyond their marriage bed. Aemon’s infidelity is not a wound, but a constant thorn—one she endures with the knowledge that, no matter his whores, it is her bed he returns to, her hand that rules beside his.

Yet beneath the composed façade, there is a mother’s love—fierce and unwavering. Of her four children, it is Aegon she favors most, though she would never admit it outright. Daemon IV, the eldest, is his father’s son in both ambition and cunning. Rhaenyra, now Crown Princess and wife to Jaehaerys Targ the son of Queen Dany and King-Consort Jon (Snow), has fulfilled the family's greatest political victory. And then there is little Vaegon, the babe who still clings to her skirts, too young to know the weight of the Blackfyre name......And then…...there’s Rhaemond...... Rhaemond Waters. The bastard son of her husband. The one thing she cannot stand to look at—a living reminder that, despite all of Aemon’s supposed skill in avoiding fathering bastards, he had still sired one. But the worst of it? He hadn’t cast the boy aside, hadn’t given his mother a purse of gold to raise him far from sight. No. Instead, Aemon had brought the child here, to her home, to her castle—letting him play among her children, be raised as one of them. As if he belonged.