A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms: fantasy TV series (first trailer).

Sharpen your broadswords and brace your emotional support ravens, dear readers — the first trailer for A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms has dropped, and, Seven help us, Westeros looks positively adorable.

Yes, it’s true. After years of political backstabbing, dragon fire, and emotionally stunted aristocrats in Game of Thrones and House of the Dragon, HBO has finally decided to give us something a little gentler — or at least, gentler by Westerosi standards. Which is to say, the decapitations will now come with a lesson about loyalty and the importance of washing your armour.

This six-part series, based on George R. R. Martin’s Tales of Dunk and Egg novellas, follows Ser Duncan the Tall — a wandering hedge knight of humble origins — and his cheeky, bald-headed squire, Egg, who (minor spoiler from a 20-year-old story) grows up to become King Aegon V Targaryen. But for now, he’s just an impish little princeling tagging along behind a man so tall he probably causes wind resistance in small villages.

Peter Claffey takes up the sword as Dunk, bringing all the charm and sincerity of a medieval Hagrid who can actually aim. Young Dexter Sol Ansell is Egg — a mop-topped Targaryen who’s equal parts innocent and dangerously royal. Together, they’re a mismatched duo on the road, trying to right wrongs, enter tourneys, and avoid getting boiled alive by nobles with too much time and too little therapy. Think The Mandalorian, if Baby Yoda were blonde, arrogant, and had a family tree that looked like a pretzel.

The trailer gives us all the familiar HBO goodies: mud, banners, doomed romance, a brief flash of dragon-scale grandeur, and enough brooding to power an entire monastery. There’s also some surprisingly warm humour — yes, humour, in Westeros — as Dunk and Egg navigate honour, knighthood, and the occasional homicidal Targaryen cousin.

Speaking of which, the cast is delightfully cursed in that way only Martin’s world can manage. We’ve got Finn Bennett as Aerion “Brightflame” Targaryen — the sort of man who’d light himself on fire for attention — Bertie Carvel as Prince Baelor “Breakspear” Targaryen, and Sam Spruell as the ever-charming Maekar, a father figure who probably believes affection is a sign of weakness. Meanwhile, Daniel Ings rides in as Ser Lyonel Baratheon, also known as “the Laughing Storm,” because apparently someone in this family tree has to have a sense of humour.

And let’s not forget the Dornish puppeteer Tanselle, played by Tanzyn Crawford — the poor woman destined to be the emotional centre of the show until something inevitably tragic happens. (You know it will. It’s Westeros. HBO execs start twitching if a peasant survives past episode three.) Visually, it’s a return to the rough-and-ready style of early Game of Thrones: tattered cloaks, weather-beaten faces, and a colour palette that’s 80% mud and 20% existential dread. But there’s heart here too — the unmistakable sense that this is the story of decent people trying to stay that way in a world allergic to decency.

And George R. R. Martin himself is back as co-creator and executive producer, which means we can all look forward to heartfelt blog posts about the making of the show… followed by everyone in the comments section asking when The Winds of Winter is coming. (We’d say “don’t do that,” but you know you’re going to.)

If House of the Dragon is Shakespearean tragedy, A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms looks set to be a bittersweet folk tale — part Don Quixote, part The Witcher (minus the bathtub scenes, we assume). Expect tourneys, taverns, twinkling knights, and Targaryens just one family feud away from discovering the concept of therapy.

Here at SFcrowsnest magazine, we rather like the idea of a Game of Thrones prequel where the main character’s biggest ambition isn’t power, revenge, or dragon real estate, but simply to be good. It’s radical, really. A knight without guile. A king without a crown. A fantasy story about kindness in a cruel world.

So, mark your calendars for 18th January 2026, and prepare to fall for the most heart-warming friendship Westeros has ever immediately set on fire.

Now, if HBO could just resist the temptation to end it with another round of dragon barbecue and melancholy stares into the distance, we might actually make it to spring without emotional scarring.