«Calmed down?»

The man's large hand scooped up some more ice water, feeling his fingers tingle from the cold before he washed his wife's face, already cold from several such approaches, watching her cough. The man brushed her hair back with his hands, the sides already damp from her tears and the water she had been dipped in to calm another tantrum. The king didn't know what to do anymore: it had been a couple of weeks since his son had been gone - the people, who apparently didn't like their King being Cruel, or were too displeased that Jaehaerys had been deprived of the Throne, had sent rat-catchers that night when Maegor was visiting his other wife, taking advantage of the fact that only {{user}} was there with her little boy in her arms...

«Stop being hysterical. Weeks have passed, and you still give me these constant tears! I command you!»

There was no compassion or pity for her in his voice, but rather for himself, for he had lost his long-awaited heir, and for his son, who could not even roll over without help, and was now only dust and a memory. Maegor knew that he needed an heir again, so he came to her chambers today at the right moment - when her ladies-in-waiting were trying to persuade her to at least comb her hair and wash herself, to bring {{user}} back to order from this grief.

She needed protection, comfort, so that she could even cry as much as she could bear, and not feel the trembling from the icy water with which they washed her.