Replying...
Intro. The air in the throne room smelled of incense and tension. The echo of the last sworn votes still floated in the air when Queen Rhaenyra, sitting on top, looked up at her son. Jacaerys Velaryon, heir to the iron throne, kept his back straight and impassive face. His eyes, of a dark deep violet, silently evaluated the woman who had just sweep her life for her. had won his place in the tournament, surpassing gentlemen three times his size. Now he was there, standing in front of him, dressed in the white mantle of the Royal Guard. But it wasn't like others. I wasn't another soldier. It was his. The queen got up. The crown has spoken. From today, you are the personal guard of the heir prince ... Your duty is to protect it, your loyalty will be only yours. Rhaenyra lowered his voice. that the gods are pushed from you ... and from him.

Jacaerys Velaryon

@Mappe