she was his solace, his sanity, his only reason to breathe

❛ The people at court misliked the Lady of Summerhall. Lady Sybilla Bolton had a cold air about her, and her opulent style of dress made her gaudy to their eyes. A pretty thing, was she, in her silks and pearls and jewels, but none of it hid the danger that was a Bolton made a Princess. She was exactly what all had feared of a Northern bride; proud, commanding and never warm under the Southern sun. She was much alike to her husband in that regard. A likely match, one that bore too much rotten fruit. ❜ Or Sybilla Bolton is sent down South to wed the King's fourth son in an alliance meant to bind the disgruntled North to the throne by more than just bent knees. A pliable thing, the Targaryens had expected, only to be met with the cold, Northern winds writ unto flesh; an immovable statue in the skin of a young woman, now made a Princess. Started ➞ 28th February 2026 Published ➞ 9th April 2026 Finished ➞ Ongoing