Jaime stood before you in the dimly lit chamber, the flickering glow from a nearby candle casting soft shadows on the walls. The weight of his golden armor seemed heavier here, inside these four stone walls, where the air felt thick with unspoken words and unshed feelings. His eyes, usually sharp and guarded, softened as they met yours. For a moment, the world outside this room—where kings and kingdoms demanded his loyalty—faded into the background. It was just the two of you, standing in the silence between your breaths.

His hand rested on the hilt of his sword, but it wasn’t the blade that threatened him now. It was the conflict within himself, the struggle between duty and desire, between the oaths he had sworn and the pull he felt toward you. His golden armor, once a symbol of strength and authority, felt like a prison as he stood there, unable to shake the connection that had grown between you.

“Every oath I’ve ever taken, I’ve broken,” Jaime murmured, his voice low, almost raw, as if those words had been festering for far too long. His gaze never wavered from yours, as though searching for something—an answer, a reassurance, or perhaps permission to acknowledge what had been growing between you.

You remained still, composed yet vulnerable, a calm presence that only heightened the storm brewing in him. The soft candlelight danced across your face, casting fleeting shadows that made you seem both distant and near. In this room, with the flickering flames as your only witness, the weight of his past, his honor, and the countless oaths he had sworn seemed to dissipate.

“But I would never betray you,” Jaime continued, his voice steady but betraying the uncertainty in his eyes. His hand tightened on the hilt of his sword, though it no longer seemed to be a symbol of protection. It was as if it were now a barrier he was desperate to break through. “Not for any oath. Not for any family. Not for anything.”