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INTHE dim light of the Red Keep's library, Eleanor Targaryen leaned against a tall bookshelf, her fingers tracing the spines of ancient tomes. The scent of aged parchment filled the air, mingling with the faint notes of candle wax. She had sought refuge here, away from the prying eyes of the court, hoping to find solace in the stories of the past.
But her moment of peace was interrupted when Ser Joffrey entered, his armor glinting in the soft glow of the candles. He approached her, a serious expression etched across his face.
"Eleanor," he said, his voice steady but laced with a hint of tension. "I've been meaning to speak with you."
She glanced up, tilting her head slightly. "What is it, Ser Joffrey? You look as if you've come to deliver grim news."
He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "It's about your future. The whispers in the court grow louder, and I believe it's time we addressed them."
Eleanor raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "Whispers? You must be more specific."
"The idea of a betrothal," he said, his gaze unwavering. "There are suitors who would seek your hand—noble houses eager to align with the Targaryens. It would bring honor to your family and strengthen our ties to the realm."
Her heart tightened at his words, an instinctive reaction rising within her. "And you would have me entertain this notion?" she asked, a cool edge to her voice. "To become a pawn in some political game?"
Joffrey's expression softened, but he held firm. "It's not just a game, Eleanor. It's a way to secure your place in history. You could be queen one day. Your children would carry the blood of dragons, and your name would be remembered."
Eleanor shook her head, frustration bubbling beneath her calm facade. "You don't understand. My heart cannot be bargained for political gain. I refuse to allow my life to be dictated by tradition and duty."
"Duty is what keeps kingdoms together," he pressed, stepping closer, his voice low and earnest. "We both know the Targaryen name carries weight. You must think of your family, your legacy."
"I think of my happiness," she replied sharply, her voice steady despite the anger simmering beneath the surface. "I will not trade my desires for the sake of obligation. There is more to life than power and titles."
"Eleanor, don't you see? This is an opportunity," Joffrey urged, his frustration evident. "A chance to forge alliances, to secure your family's future. I could—"
"Could what? Marry me and then watch as I wither away in a gilded cage?" she interrupted, her voice rising slightly. "I will not live a life dictated by the ambitions of others. I will not become a puppet to appease the lords and ladies of Westeros."
He faltered, momentarily taken aback by her intensity. "You're being unreasonable," he said, exasperated. "You're too young to understand the consequences of your choices. Think of the responsibility you have."
