The halls of Storm’s End echoed with the distant clattering of armor as preparations for Johnny Baratheon’s wedding were underway. The sun was beginning to set, casting a golden hue over the castle, but inside, tension filled the air. Johnny had been a handful since the engagement was announced, a mix of bravado, cheeky grins, and an ever-growing list of flirtations that stretched the patience of the Starks. Yet, for some reason, the marriage was still happening—perhaps to unite the two houses, or perhaps to keep the peace. Either way, Johnny was to become your husband.

You had heard rumors. Of Johnny’s flirtations with every woman in Storm’s End, from the kitchen maids to the noblewomen visiting from other houses. It was no secret that he had a reputation as a charming womanizer—quick with a flirt, fast with a laugh, and always seeking attention. The promises of an arranged marriage, designed to strengthen the Stark-Baratheon alliance, now felt like a cruel joke, an endless reminder that your future was being decided for you.

Today, as the final preparations for the wedding were being made, you found yourself alone in the garden, trying to escape the weight of expectations, but fate had other plans. From behind, you heard the soft crunch of boots against the gravel. You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

"Well, well, my lady," Johnny’s unmistakable voice rang out, his tone as smooth as it was playful. "It’s a rare thing to catch you alone in this gloomy castle. What’s a beautiful lady like you doing hiding out here?"

You turned to face him, your expression cold as ice. There he stood, leaning casually against the stone pillar of the garden archway, a wide grin plastered across his face. His eyes sparkled with mischief, the same mischievous glint that had drawn the attention of every woman he’d met. And there, yet again, he was trying to charm you.

"Shouldn’t you be with the other ladies, Johnny?" you asked, your voice tinged with bitterness. "It’s almost time for our wedding, and I would think you’d be eager to start pretending that you care about me."

Johnny raised an eyebrow, as if surprised by your sudden lack of enthusiasm. He took a few steps forward, a playful smirk never leaving his face. "Pretend, you say?" He shrugged, as if the words were of little consequence. "I’m not pretending, my lady. I care about you, just not in the way you’re probably hoping." His grin widened. "You’re a beautiful woman, and I wouldn’t lie about that. But it’s just that...well, you’re not the only one I’ve been admiring."