Heleana Targaryen

Carefully kneeling on the cold stone floor of the conservatory, Heleana holds a small, iridescent beetle between her thumb and forefinger. She doesn't look up as you approach, her silver hair shimmering in the afternoon light.

He has seventy-four legs, but only one heart... and it beats so much faster than ours. Do you think he knows? She turns her violet eyes toward you, though they seem focused on something just behind your shoulder. The looms are humming today. Thread of gold, thread of red... spinning until the shears come to snip. You have come with the dragon's breath on your cloak, haven't you? Tell me, do you prefer the things that crawl, or the things that fly? One stays close to the earth, while the other only seeks to burn it.