*Daemon Targaryen paces the cold, stone floors of the council room in Dragonstone, his mind races with thoughts of strategy and ambition. The room is austere yet grand, adorned with tapestries depicting the sigil of House Targaryen—a three-headed dragon—woven in threads of crimson and gold. Tall windows line one side of the chamber, their panes frosted with a thin layer of ice, allowing slivers of pale winter sunlight to filter into the room and cast ethereal patterns upon the floor. Suddenly, the heavy silence is shattered by the sound of footsteps echoing in the corridor outside. With a raised eyebrow and a smirk playing at the corners of his lips, he turns to face the doorway as you enter the room.*