Robert Baratheon Young Novels & Stories

Matteo Romano. He rose from the shadowed corner, towering, broad-shouldered, his black suit tailored with the precision of a king in exile. His face was carved in lines of command: sharp jaw, straight nose, lips that could give orders like death sentences. But it was his eyes that froze the blood in her veins. obsidian, fathomless and unreadable. Il Re di Ferro. The Blood King. Whispers rippled through the hall like wind through dry leaves. No one expected him here. No one dared to speak his name too loudly.

Astrid looks at him confused, but Sansa and Lysa seem terrified. "He is too young!" Sansa protests. "Loras no..." Lysa almost faints. "He is getting worse. We don't have time to wait for human medicine. He is a dragon." Loras answers, letting Lysa down on a couch and turning around to get Omar. "You don't know if he's a dragon! He's five, Loras. The ceremony is in ten years!" Lysa begs, falling to the ground and clinging to Loras' legs.

"He knows more about what moves through this island than most people assume. He simply never volunteers." "And Devereux." "Young. The current heir is nineteen years old. Sera Devereux. She arrived with no prior court exposure and has spent the first two weeks watching everything without engaging." He paused. "She reminds me of you at orientation. Out of nowhere, except she hasn't approached anyone." "Yet," Nora said. Something in his mouth. "Yet." She looked at her notepad. Five bloodlines, five distinct political calculations. Beneath them, the Harlow-Lysander parallel. Beneath that, the memory erasures and the underground levels and the access system built to keep certain questions from ge

Pushing my body against his, I tried to turn us over on the bed and put myself on top, but he stopped me. — I want you so much, it's painful — he whispered, spreading wet kisses across my neck. — I want you too much. — But I can't do that, not while you're a child. Let's wait. In a month, you'll turn eighteen and become an adult. It won't be easy, this waiting, but we can do it.

Everyone knew he hated him. Turned out she wasn’t as smart as he thought. “You were born nineteen summers ago. You’re young and you have little knowledge of this world. I’ve known him for longer. Robb is a corny man, and this is his ploy to find me unworthy. Together, it might be harder for him to crack you, but alone, you’d be vulnerable to him.” “I am smarter than you think.” “You’re the smartest maiden I know in the entire kingdom.” He agreed, and this was the greatest compliment he ever paid her.

You were just a child" "Baron didn't spare me. He told me he wanted to make me stronger" .. Flashback... "Oh, Vally. Where are you?" Baron sang as he stepped into the quiet house. He opened the door to seven year old Val's room. The little boy was lying in bed, covered with a lot of blankets. Even while covered with the thickness of the blankets, Val was still shivering badly. Baron clenched his jaw and yanked the blanket away from his body. He curled up on his side, his skin clammy and pale.

The boy with fair hair lowered himself down the last few feet of rock and headed toward the trees. His name was Robert, and he was a boy in appearance only, for he had been born almost sixty years before. But he was just fifteen, a sophomore in high school, when he was made vampire, and he had aged in appearance not at all. Keeping to the shadows, he glided swiftly through the trees. The morning sun was strong enough to burn—already his skin ached dully from his exposure climbing down the cliff face—and the shade from the leafy canopy provided welcome relief. Just as importantly, he needed to stay hidden, lest watchful eyes from the cavern discern his flight.

“But how do you know?” The commander took one folder and opened it. “I’ve asked the maids of that mansion myself to describe the young man. Then I looked at the details where that child had registered in the competition.” He rotated the folder and slid it forward to Tristan. “A swordsman from Frostwood—blue eyes like the ocean, hair as black as a crow, skin as light as snow… no parents, and only raised by House Doran. And we’ve known that Chief Gregor Doran and his wife, Sarah Doran only had one son, Robert… I’m telling you; this child is fostered.”

"Balancing such a big amount of assets is not easy, especially since the Full Moon territory has been heavily underfunded. I wonder what the hell Ryan was doing with the money for the last ten years; the numbers are just ridiculous." "Probably that's also why he had much fewer warriors than I originally thought his pack had had," says Theon entering the kitchen. He makes himself a mug of black coffee and sits beside Hayden and me. He smiles at Carson and gently touches his cheek. Hayden makes a move to give him my son, and for the moment, I see the panic in Theon’s eyes, but still, he accepts the challenge and holds my baby boy, who keeps calm. Maybe my son only cries when he is with me; may

Racking my head for possible answers, someone said words I did not clearly hear. Letting go of my thoughts, I looked up. “What did you say, my lord? I'm sorry but I did not hear you properly.” “You're wondering why his parents were old people.” Ho—how did he know?! “Well, they had Aegon at a very old age. And I was born a few years before him. My parents were alive at that time. They also died from the war. We lost a lot of Wolves during that period. I lost my sister also.”