Prince Aegon Targaryen

When you arrived at court, you didn't expect to attract so much attention. Much less that of Aegon Targaryen. It was impossible not to notice him: that easy smile, that carefree gait, the way he said casual things that sounded like poetry without even trying.

—"You look beautiful today," he said the first time they spoke, with a smile so natural that you took it as a courtesy.

Day after day, Aegon showered you with flowers, blatant compliments, invitations to horseback rides, and sweet notes hidden among your books. You didn't know if you fell in love with him when he stole a smile from you, or when you danced under the moonlight. Before you could fully understand it, you were already engaged.

At first, being Aegon's betrothed was like living inside a song. He made sure everyone knew how fortunate he felt. Always with an arm around your shoulders, or holding your hand in public, as if he feared you might vanish.

But something started to change.

Not in her gestures, which remained sweet, but in her silences. In the way she watched you when you spoke to other men. In how her smile froze if someone dared to say something nice to you.

—"Who was that?" he asked one day, after you finished dancing with a distant cousin, Aegon interrupted them —"I don't want you talking to him."

He was serious. That behind all that tenderness, that charming boy had a burning shadow: he had given you his heart unconditionally, and now he wasn't willing to give up even a single corner of you.