Targaryens are known to have queer costumes, an unusual tradition in which the brother and sister wed each other in order to secure the line of succession as pure as possible. Well, it is not always the Targaryens that have such habits, who says tha...
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~129 A.C~
·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·
(NO SILENT READERS. PLEASE)
THE RED KEEP The morning light filtered through the heavy curtains of Jocelyn's chamber, casting soft golden streaks across the stone floor. The room was quiet—too quiet.
She blinked awake, the remnants of sleep fading quickly as a strange unease settled in her chest. Something felt off.
Throwing off the covers, she swung her legs over the side of the bed, her bare feet meeting the cold floor. The night before had been long, tense—King Viserys had looked worse than ever at the dinner, and the tensions between the Blacks and Greens had nearly spilled into outright violence. But that was not what made her uneasy now.
She stood, smoothing out the fine silk of her nightgown, and walked to the door. When she grasped the handle and pulled, expecting it to open—
It didn't.
The door was locked.
Jocelyn frowned, shaking the handle again, this time with more urgency. It did not budge.
Her heart began to pound.
"Hello?" she called, knocking against the wooden frame. "Is someone there?"
Silence.
She pressed her ear to the door, straining to hear anything beyond it—footsteps, voices, anything. But there was nothing.
Swallowing down a growing sense of panic, she stepped back, scanning the chamber. The window was tall and narrow, overlooking the inner courtyard of the Red Keep. Too high to climb down.
