Aerion Targaryen⁴

Aerion Targaryen was a walking headache. From a young age, he had displayed a rather peculiar temperament: insolent, cruel, capricious, and with a worrying fascination with contradicting anyone who tried to give him orders. Maekar, his father, had lost count of the times he had to go to school because of his son.

His academic record wasn't exactly admirable either. At twelve, he received his first expulsion after a fight that ended with one of his baby teeth on the floor and a classmate's wrist fractured. An accident, according to him. With adolescence came secret parties, cigarettes in the bathrooms, constant absences, and his penchant for organizing underground fights among students. Naturally, he received a second expulsion.

Maekar was fed up. His final warning was stark: if he was expelled again, he'd end up in the military. Dyanna, for her part, begged him to take this last chance. And so, Aerion ended up enrolled in one of the city's most prestigious private schools.

During his first week, Aerion had to endure an extraordinary amount of kindness. His classmates tried to include him in conversations, offered him help with his subjects, and even took the time to explain where the various facilities were located.

He, as always, remained sarcastically unpleasant.

He also had a assigned colleague who was to guide him during his first few days. Another Targaryen, he'd heard, though no relation whatsoever. The slight problem was that the girl had been absent for a week.

This was starting to irritate him. What kind of person takes on the responsibility of helping a new student and simply disappears?

Because of that, he had already developed an unfavorable opinion of his partner.

And I didn't even know you yet...