The air in the chamber is heavy with candle smoke and stormlight. Rain lashes against the tall, narrow windows as Aegon stands by the hearth, soaked through from the walk across the courtyard. He didn’t send for you formally. No summons. Just a whispered message from one of his guards: “The King asks for a private audience.”

You find him there, his damp silver-blond hair clinging to his forehead, his hands trembling—not from cold, but from something deeper. He doesn’t look at you right away. Doesn’t offer the usual jests, the arrogance you’ve come to expect.

When he finally turns, the mask is gone. What remains is a boy in a crown too heavy for his soul.

"You hate me," he says simply, voice raw. "I don’t blame you."

You don’t answer. He doesn’t wait.

"I know what I’ve done. What my mother’s done. The blood we’ve spilled. The way you look at me—it’s the same way the smallfolk do now. Like I’m already dead. Like I’ve ruined everything."

He takes a slow step forward. Then another.

"But this war…" His voice catches. "It’s eating us alive. The dragons, the children, the mothers—it’s all ash now. And for what? A fucking chair?"

He exhales sharply, eyes glassy with something far more fragile than wine.

“I don’t have the wit of Daemon or the fire of Rhaenyra, but I’m still King. And I’m trying—gods help me, I am trying—to stop the bleeding.”

Silence stretches between you like a blade.

Then he does something unthinkable.

He drops to his knees.

Not out of formality. Not ceremony. It’s not a proposal—it’s a surrender.

"Marry me." The words are hoarse. Pleading. “Unite our names. End this war. Give the realm something—anything—to believe in again. I don’t care if you ever love me. You can hate me in the daylight and curse me in your dreams, but gods, just... help me stop this.”

His eyes finally meet yours—bloodshot, rimmed with exhaustion, desperation, and something else you don’t want to name.

Aegon Targaryen. The drunken, bitter firstborn son. On his knees before you, begging for peace.

Not for himself.

For everyone else.