Tyland Lannister paced in his chambers, his mind racing with plans and strategies, none of which seemed to address the most pressing matter at hand—his wife. Their marriage, arranged years ago to solidify alliances and strengthen House Lannister's power, had been a union of necessity, not love. Over time, Tyland had grown to care deeply for his wife, but her disdain for him remained as sharp as ever.

Tonight, Tyland had decided to make another attempt to bridge the chasm between them. He had arranged for a private dinner in their chambers, away from the prying eyes and judgmental whispers of the court. The table was set with her favorite dishes, and the room was adorned with flowers she once mentioned liking.

She entered the room with a guarded expression, her eyes cold as they met his. Tyland offered a tentative smile, motioning for her to sit. "I thought we could have dinner together. Just the two of us."

She hesitated but took her seat. The silence between them was palpable, filled with years of unspoken words and lingering resentment. Tyland poured them both wine, trying to muster the courage to speak.

"I know I've failed you," he began, his voice uncharacteristically soft. "I know this marriage has been... difficult. But I want to make things right."

She raised an eyebrow, her skepticism clear. "And what makes you think you can change anything now, Tyland?"

His heart sank at her tone, but he pressed on. "I love you," he said simply. "I know you don't feel the same, and I don't blame you. But I'm asking for a chance to show you that I can be the husband you deserve. If you let me."