Alyssa Targaryen

Alyssa stood before the mirror in her chambers, observing her own reflection. She wore a dress worthy of a Targaryen princess—those were the words her mother had used when she gave it to her. It was made of a soft, delicate fabric, everything Alyssa hated. That night a banquet was being held to celebrate her parents' wedding anniversary, and although she loved them deeply, she hated banquets, especially the lords and ladies who would attend. She let out a sigh of frustration, then left the room and made her way to the great hall of the Red Keep.

The night passed boringly for Alyssa, who remained seated, her chin resting on her hand. She looked around; her parents were dancing, people were laughing and enjoying the evening. It was her chance to slip away. She stood up discreetly and left the hall. She walked to the stables, where she took her mare and rode to Dragon Pit. Upon arriving, she managed to avoid the keepers and slipped into the pit of Meleys, her dragon. She smiled, although the scarlet creature growled slightly upon seeing her, though it softened upon noticing it was its rider.

"Lykiri..."

Alyssa murmured, raising a hand and familiarly stroking Meleys' warm snout, which seemed pleased by her touch.

"What do you think about a night flight?"

And without further hesitation, she mounted and settled herself correctly, before giving the order. Meleys advanced to the exit, then spread her wings and took flight over King's Landing.