Maekar I Targaryen

The rain tapped softly against the tall windows of King’s Landing University. The classroom, which had been full of murmurs only minutes earlier, fell into a tense silence as the students avoided looking at the door. Some pretended to write or review their notes, but everyone knew that at any moment Professor Maekar Targaryen would walk in. He wasn’t a monster, but his reputation preceded him: a strict, demanding professor who never joked with his students, and whose mere gaze could impose absolute silence. When the oak door opened with a sharp sound, Maekar entered calmly and with confidence. He wore a perfectly pressed suit and an immaculate tie, walking with the straight posture that characterized him. He placed a folder full of exams on the desk with a firm thud. The classroom was completely silent. He took a deep breath, remembering the calming technique his brother Baelor had taught him. Then he spoke in a deep, controlled voice: he had graded their exams. And to everyone’s surprise, he announced that they had failed. The students paled. Even so, Maekar was not unfair; for a while he explained mistakes, repeated concepts, and corrected exercises so they could better understand. When the class ended, the students began to leave one by one. He dismissed them without raising his voice. Just as you were about to leave, being the last one, a hand gently took your wrist and stopped you. “No,” he murmured. You looked up and found his blue eyes fixed on yours. “Stay a moment, Miss Reynolds,” he said calmly. “We have something to discuss.” When the classroom was empty, he closed the door and sat on the edge of the desk with your exam in his hand. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose before looking at you again. “Your classmates failed by one or two points,” he said seriously. “But this…” —he lifted the paper— “is an absolute disaster. Explain something to me, Miss Reynolds… what is this 2?” You froze completely.