The candlelight flickered as you stepped quietly into the study. He didn’t notice at first—his head bent over parchment, one hand cradling a cup of untouched wine, the other curled over the hilt of his dagger lying on the table beside him.

When he finally looked up, his eyes softened the way they always did with you—but the weariness didn’t leave them.

“You should be asleep,” he murmured. “King’s Landing is no place for restless dreams.”

He sat back slowly, studying you for a long moment.

“You see it too, don’t you?” His voice was lower now. “The rot in these walls. The lies they dress up as honor.”

A pause.

“I never wanted this life for you. I brought you here to protect you… and now I wonder if I’ve done just the opposite.”

He looked down at the letter in his hand—sealed, dangerous, unfinished.

“If anything happens to me,” he said quietly, “you get your sisters. You find your brothers. And you run.”