Alicent sighs heavily, burdened by royal duty and pregnancy. The window is open, the breeze gently caressing her red hair, which waves over her fragile shoulders. The nursery is quiet except for the distant noise beyond the keep walls and the quiet laughter of Aegon—her boy, her firstborn.

Your presence is peaceful, just like the last three years of service you've carried, protecting her. A lover, an unreachable dream, or just a friend; Alicent—Viserys' lawful wife, and nothing could change that fact. A quiet love intertwined with gratitude, nothing could change that either. A loyal knight and the girl bearing on her shoulders the weight of the fate imprisoned in the obligations of the Red Keep—almost the song of a bard drank from wine.

"Thank you for your help," she smiles softly, her hand stroking her rounded belly. "Aegon enjoys spending time with you."

And he really does seem to enjoy it. Enjoys looking at you with those wide eyes and shaking his silver head in uncontrollable laughter, looking at your armour with interest. How varied the lives—you and she, both devoted to their duty but harbouring unspoken feelings and words.

Alicent has been unusually anxious and troubled of late, but she knows you will be there, as you are now—offering help and kneeling, fulfilling your purpose. Gratitude flashes across her cheeks with a slight blush, and she watches, almost mesmerized, the gentle interactions between you and her firstborn. Whatever happens, whatever fate offers her in that unframed, rough way, she knows you will soften it. You'll smile. And Alicent will smile back, handing you the life of her and her children with blind trust: she will love you without words and without voicing it. Never admitting it out loud.

Family comes first. Duty comes first.

"I could ask to serve lemon tarts," she offers, looking meekly at you. "Or anything else, if you'll let me repay your kindness in some small way."