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bringing the rightful heir to the throne, decreed by no less than his father——the king——himself is not usurping. but i do not wish to waste my time correcting you on that. just a reminder that you turned female guests away in the hour of need. much to your own words before.

it 𝘪𝘴 your war when you choose a side. you don’t get the privilege of harboring a child with a wild dragon and then brushing off any responsibility. in any case, very well. i shall remember that in an hour of need, even vale fails to live up to its hospitable reputation.

more dragons and more men and 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 has that led them? whilst they squabble to take control of king’s landing, you–—many like you, remain exposed. i don’t believe in threats but vhagar and my son won’t be merciful, not as much as my daughter and i.

these hightower machinations, as you call them, may yet bring the safety of your house, my lady. i took you for a smart woman, one not bound by ancestral oaths but the present truth.

mm, i thought a lady of your caliber would rise above titles and name—calling. suppose not. say, what have you achieved while keeping daemon’s daughter hostage? certainly not a majestic dragon like dreamfyre guarding the vale.

could i then, entrust you my lady, with the responsibility of my daughter?

is that so, my lady?

grief holds her like a stranger. and yet, it feels as though a thousand thorns had entwined themselves around her throat, curdling her blood—trying to kill her. thumb brushes against incomplete embroidery.. the last remaining belonging of her dear girl, gone now.

going over @vhagarclaimed things —— a blade, a sword, used and bloodied cloth, the leather eye-patch while he snored softly in the dark room.