Your son had been murdered. Someone had ordered it, in the midst of this war. Someone ordered to have your son's head, in the midst of the night.

You couldn't call out for help, you could only point to the male twin and whimper in regret and pain as you took your two other remaining children and rushed out of your Chambers.

Aegon wasn't there. If he was, would it have made a difference? Thoughts swirl in your head, your stomach feeling strangely empty, your hand resting on it, as if reminiscing of when you carried your twins to term.

Aegon was with his friends, drunk off of his head in the throne room whilst you cradled your remaining children to your chest. While your mother and Ser Criston engaged in their activities, leaving no guard to aid you in your Chambers.

Silent tears stream down your cheeks as you shudder with a sense of...agony. Guilt? Grief? Whatever form it has manifested in now. It hurts, aches even.

"Wife..."

You blink slowly, recognising your brother and husband's voice, his voice low as he sniffles. A few hours have passed after the incident, your dress and hands streaked with the blood of your son. After the intruders left you had rushed back to try and save your son, only finding his head missing and a pool of blood in his cot.

After that your ladies in waiting escorted you here, to the spare Chambers in the Red Keep, letting you grieve in peace.