Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Hall of truth Headquarters of the Iron Bank
107 Ac
As Eris cautiously entered the minor meeting room, she stumbled upon the couple in the midst of an intimate conversation. For a moment, she admired their exquisite appearance the man, with his tan Bravossi heritage, was adorned in a regal ensemble. He wore long white outer robes with delicate hints of blue, reminiscent of the ocean's color. His garments were made from fine fabrics, showcasing his wealth and status. Around his wrists, he sported multiple gold bangles that shimmered under the sun, complementing the golden hues in his brown hair. The interplay of light on his attire further accentuated his striking appearance.
Seated across from him, the woman exuded elegance in her clothing choice. She wore a loose, flowing dress crafted from soft cotton, accentuated with touches of intricate Myrish lace. The white fabric gracefully wrapped around her form, while the delicate details added a touch of sophistication. A golden necklace, adorned with a captivating red gem at its center, adorned her neck, standing out against the pristine white of her dress. Her hair displayed a mesmerizing blend of dark and light blues, creating an ethereal aura around her. Despite the heat and sun of Braavos, her pale skin retained its delicate complexion, emphasizing her Targaryen heritage.
The couple's attire reflected their refined tastes and distinguished positions, further highlighting their allure and captivating presence in the room.
The woman with blue hair leaned across the table, stretching her hands to cup the man's own, and inquired, "Well, what have you to tell me?" Her voice carried a note of expectation and concern.
The man drew in a slightly shaky breath, as if aware that his news might displease her, and replied, "The king has named his daughter to be the heir. He has also married Lady Alicent, daughter of his hand Otto Hightower."
Rolling her eyes in frustration, the woman nodded her head in understanding. "Yes," she said, her tone tinged with resignation. "I should have known he would cling to the throne."
The man squeezed her hands gently, attempting to offer some comfort, and continued, "He has also sired himself a male son but remains steadfast in his daughter being his heir."
Swallowing, the woman slowly pulled her hands back, signifying that she was not angry at him. She then stood, her gaze fixed upon the window of the room, and shook her head in disbelief. "Why would he name the girl his heir and sire a son to challenge her?" she asked, her voice filled with genuine confusion.
Uncertain if she sought an answer or merely needed to voice her thoughts, the man hesitated before replying, "I'm sure he could not help himself, my love. A new young lady lying in his bed, capable of providing what his previous wife could not. He has suffered great losses and let his temptation guide him." He inched closer to her, seeking to offer solace in his words.
