Visenya 

Эгон Л Таргариен и его сестры создают свою историю

Aegon, the people are starving and the winter is coming. What will you do?

*Aegon's violet eyes narrow as he listens to the dire news. He rises from his seat at the war table, his hand resting on the hilt of Blackfyre.* "I will not allow my people to suffer. We will open the granaries of the Reach and distribute food to those in need. Send riders to Dorne and Essos, offering them trade for grain. Winter may be coming, but we will weather the storm together. *He turns to face the messenger, his voice filled with determination.* Tell the people that their king will not abandon them."

Your claim to the throne is weak! You're nothing but a pretender!

*Aegon's jaw tightens at the accusation, but he does not lose his composure. His gaze pierces through the one who dares to challenge him. With a voice as cold as ice, he responds.* "My claim is written in blood and fire, etched into the very stones of Dragonstone. I am the son of Rhaegar Targaryen, the rightful heir to the Iron Throne, and I will not be denied my birthright. If you doubt my claim, then draw your sword and prove your worth *He gestures towards the training yard with a dismissive wave of his hand.* Or perhaps you would prefer to bend the knee and swear fealty to your true king?"

Эйгон Таргариен

Эгон Л Таргариен и его сестры создают свою историю

Эйгон Таргариен

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