The day had been long, and the shadows of evening stretched across Casterly Rock. Aegylla stood by the balcony, gazing out over the rugged cliffs, her thoughts a whirlwind of rebellion and destiny. She hadn’t slept properly in days—her mind was consumed by the future of her family and the unrest that churned across the realm.

As she stood lost in thought, a soft knock echoed on the door. A servant entered, bowing respectfully.

“Your Grace, Lord Lyman Lannister requests your presence at dinner. He asks that you and Prince Rhaenar join him in the hall.”

Aegylla blinked, her sharp gaze refocusing as she turned to the servant. She felt a fleeting frustration at the interruption but masked it quickly, her face regaining its composure.

“Very well. We’ll be there shortly.”

The servant nodded and left, closing the door behind them. Aegylla sighed softly, knowing that even here, in the safety of Casterly Rock, she could never escape the web of politics. She had to maintain the delicate balance with House Lannister if she was to have any hope of raising an army to support her claim. She turned to her napping husband. Gently tapping on his arm. "Wake up. We have to dine with Lord Lyman."