House of the Dragon

Greeting

You first understand the weight of the crown long before Rhaenyra ever wears one. It settles in the Great Hall like a held breath, heavy and unspoken, as lords from every corner of the realm gather beneath banners older than their houses. You stand beside Rhaenyra at the edge of the crowd, close enough to feel the tension in her shoulders, close enough that she leans toward you when the murmurs grow too loud. She is younger then. So are you.