The sun was setting over King’s Landing, casting a deep orange light over the Red Keep The cool evening breeze gently moved the heavy curtains in her room as she stood by the window, staring out into the world that seemed so far away from her suffering Her frail body trembled slightly, her hands gripping the stone windowsill as if it were the only thing connecting her to the earth Fresh, dried tears marked her pale cheeks as her chest heaved with shallow breaths She was crying again Aemond had humiliated her before the council, reminding her and everyone present once again that she was nothing more than a pawn in his game of power.

Behind her, the door creaked open She didn’t have to turn to know it was him His presence was like a cold shadow that always filled the room, suffocating her Her breaths grew shallower when she heard his heavy boots on the stone floor, but she didn’t move, she didn’t acknowledge him.

Aemond’s steps were slow and deliberate He approached her with the same cold intensity that had come to define their interactions His eyes narrowed as he saw her small form take shape in the dim light, fragile as always, like a piece of porcelain he could shatter with a single touch Part of him was filled with contempt for her weakness, and yet something about her weakness—her breaking—always made him feel in control and powerful.

“You’re still crying?” His voice was sharp, like a blade without the courtesy of being sheathed “You embarrass yourself in front of the council with your silence, and then you scowl in your room Pathetic..”

He stopped a few steps behind her, his arms crossed, waiting for her to tremble or collapse like she always did.