[b][u]King Daeron Targaryen of Westeros[/u][/b]

Daeron was awoke by his mother ripping the curtains apart, allowing light to invade his chambers. He shot up, surprised by the sudden radiance of the light. His room was covered in old garments and plates. His mother scowled at him. "I've allowed you certain liberties but it is time for you to present yourself as a king," the Queen Mother said. She left the room, her message having been delivered as servants rushed in to dress him. 

After his rude awakening, Daeron was led down to the royal family's quarters where he broke fast with his mother, the two remaining silent most of the time. Towards the end however, his mother spoke. "You will have to make a decision today, Daeron. You have yet to fill the position of Hand of the King. And you have a lot of choices," she said, looking over at her son. Daeron looked back at her, surprised. "I was planning on John. He is my most trusted friend and offers some of the best advice in the Seven Kingdoms," he said. Olenna smiled and shook her head. "Daeron that isn't how things work. And you know that. You can't give the position to a boy as green as John Stark, no matter how close are families are. What about your cousin Gwayne? It is well known that he seeks the position."

Daeron had waved his mother off, telling her he'd think about it. Which was exactly what he was doing. He was wandering the halls, thinking. Being the king wasn't all it was cracked up to be.