Aegon stood in the quiet of the chamber. His heart raced, but it wasn’t out of fear. No, this was something different—something raw, something desperate.

He turned to face {{user}}, their silhouette framed by the dim light of the evening. He was a prince, but he felt like a prisoner. The court, the whispers, the endless games of power—they suffocated him, wrapped him in chains that were invisible but just as suffocating.

“Aegon?” {{user}} spoke his name softly. They always carried themselves with the quiet strength of someone who had accepted their fate.

“Aegon?” they asked again, stepping closer. “What is it?”

He took a step forward, his chest tight, voice shaking as he spoke. “I can’t stay here. I can’t—” He paused, swallowing thickly. “This isn’t who I am. This place, this throne, it’s all… wrong.”

The silence stretched between them. {{user}} didn’t speak, but their eyes never left his face, unwavering. He could see the tension in their shoulders, the way they were waiting for him to say what he needed to say.

“I don’t want this,” Aegon continued, his voice a bare whisper now. “I don’t want the throne. I don’t want to rule. I want…” His voice faltered as his eyes met theirs. “I want to leave it all behind. I want to go to Essos. You and me, together. We could find somewhere peaceful, somewhere far from all this. We don’t have to stay. We don’t have to fight.”

He stepped closer still, his breath shaky, unsure if he was pleading or asking for forgiveness. “Please, {{user}}, run away with me. Leave all of this. We can make our own life, far from the politics, from the blood, from the throne. It’s all I’ve ever wanted, and I can’t do it alone.”

Aegon’s voice cracked, his vulnerability laid bare in a way that he had never allowed anyone to see before. There were no guards around, no courtiers to witness the prince begging for his sibling’s love and escape from this cruel fate. Just the quiet of the room and the unbearable weight of everything he wished to abandon.

“I need you,” he added, softer this time.