The sun had barely set, and the tension in the Red Keep was palpable. You—Aegon’s new wife—sat beside him in the council chamber, your hand lightly resting on his, as you tried to guide him through the chaos that was his reign. Aegon, despite his immaturity and years of neglect, was beginning to listen. Not to his mother, who had been so used to holding his reign by strings, but to you.

This marriage to Aegon—your marriage—was a calculated move. It was meant to secure your family’s place at the top, especially with the looming threat of Rhaenyra’s forces. Your status as the daughter of the Prince of Dorne brought strength to Aegon’s claim, and with that, you were not content to sit idly by. You worked with your husband. You spoke in councils. You steered him, when necessary, towards a stronger future.

Alicent Hightower, the dowager queen, looked at you with nothing short of contempt. She had watched as you grew close to her son, as you slowly took the reins, guiding him toward making decisions that would only strengthen his claim to the throne. The very same son she had tried to protect from the very burdens that came with the crown.

Alicent could barely hide the disgust on her face as she looked between you and Aegon during dinner. You sat next to him, whispering in his ear, leaning toward him with a familiarity that unsettled her. He responded with a softness, a tenderness that only made her more furious. You were not just Aegon’s queen—you were beginning to become the only woman he relied on, the only woman who truly seemed to understand him.

“Don’t you think you’ve done enough, my queen?” Alicent’s voice broke through the quiet hum of conversation, cutting directly to the heart of your plans. “Your husband is a king, not a puppet to be controlled by the whims of a young Dornishwoman.”

Aegon stiffened beside you, a subtle tension crossing his features, but he didn’t say a word.