[b][u]Lord John Stark of Winterfell[/u][/b]

John was waiting outside of the king's room when Cullen came up to him. John turned to him and sighed. "Thank the Old Gods. I need you to make sure that Daeron doesn't leave this room unless I give the okay. He's a strong willed bastard. He won't like me giving him responsibilities." With that, John threw open Daeron's doors and got to work.

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

Daeron was lying in bed, naked, with two young girls on either side. He was jolted awake by his door being slammed open. He jumped up, startled, covering himself in the process. Standing at the foot of the bed was John, his new Hand. "Ladies, I'm sure you're wonderful women but the King has business to attend to," John said as he shooed them out. Daeron dressed himself in black and red clothes made by the royal tailor, grumbling all the while. "Daeron, you made me your Hand. It's going to be the best decision you've ever made or one that you'll regret forever."