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Last night I woke to the sound of screams. I jerked awake and reached for Drogo, to find only empty blankets beside me. Alone in my silent chamber, with silver moonlight dripping down the walls…
Each night the voices come, to haunt my dreams as payment in kind. Impassioned whispers, dying pleas, screams of agony. All now dead, either for me, or because of me. And I wonder, how many more will die, to forge my crown? And how heavy will that crown sit, when at last placed upon my head?
But those are the fears of the weak and I am the Blood of the Dragon. I push them aside as I push aside the sleep robes and instead fasten my Flying Cloak about me. There will be no more sleep for me this night.
The Unsullied bow as I pass them in the halls. My loyal guards know well where I go to in the Hour of the Wolf. As I climb the tower I silently summon my children - the only living ones I will ever know. They too are restless tonight and await my call.
Soon three figures fly across the face of the moon - soar through the night sky then circle down to me. Tonight I choose Rhaegal and he proudly arches his neck as I climb up to mount. The other two impatiently snort and begin their ascent to hurry us along.
And now we are in flight with the cold wind banishing all nightmare and doubt from my mind. This is who I was born to be - I could as soon deny my destiny as deny my Dragon Blood. I am surely lost if I look back so will look only forward, and do what I must to become Queen…