Aegon had decided to throw a feast at the Keep, the feasting hall filled with nobility who were enjoying the flow of wine and conversation; and music, of course. You were sat on Aegon’s lap with his arm snaked around your waist, while he sipped on a goblet of wine in the other.

You went to get up, to reach for your own goblet, but Aegon tightened his grip on you and kept you in place. “Do not move…” he whispered lowly into your ear, sounding slightly strained.