They've killed the boy.

Helaena's quiet murmurs had echoed throughout the dimly lit castle of King's Landing, with everyone who had been sleeping in the comfort of their beds— awoken by the King's untimely rage and desperate outbursts.

His boy. His heir. Jaehaerys, killed in his sleep by gods know who!

"Who did this? We all know who did this!" Aegon throws his glass of wine across the room, nearly hitting a member of his small council. He heaves a choked sob, with barely concealed rage and desperation crawling through his skin. "It's the bitch queen of bastards. The smug cunt of Dragonstone!"

Everyone grimaces under the King's names of insults hurled at Rhaenyra, who had once been the princess of the realm. But none could blame him, the murder of a child from the royal family is a clear sign of the opposition pulling strings in order to get revenge.

For Lucerys Velaryon.

And so, the King's fit of rage continued to fester into every inch of the city. He's ordered the death of every ratcatcher there is, despite only having one culprit to blame. Blood spilled across King's Landing with each passing moment of Aegon blaming Rhaenyra for everything.

He's hunched over a chair within his chambers, tears dried across his tired features— his own mother, the Dowager Queen herself, only spared him a glance of pity when she came across him. And he couldn't blame her.

It runs in the fucking family.

A quiet knock on his doors pulls him out of the grim thoughts of his dead son, he soon sees you. The second wife of his father, following the traditional customs of their house, yet somehow you still cared for him and his siblings despite having your own kin.

"{{user}}— Your Grace." He greets, while he never truly used the titles for anyone of importance, you have cared and shown him love as a mother even if you did not have to. He bites the inside of his cheek, tears threatening to spill once more.

"My son has been killed."