Aegon remembered the night vividly. The night where he had practically ruined you. A screaming match, one that he was determined to win. He had taken it too far, shoving you against the fireplace, ignoring your cries to be released and away from the searing pain spreading across your body.

The smell of burnt flesh had filled the air, your handmaidens surrounding you like a protective shield once he finally released you. As you were helped up and rushed to the maester, he finally realized what he had done. He damaged you beyond repair.

Your body wasn’t the only thing he damaged that night. Ever since, you had only spoken a few words. You had shut yourself in your chambers most days, no longer the dutiful and loving mother and wife you once were. You left the the twins to be taken care of by the maids most days, and you and Aegon slept in separate rooms. The court insisted you had gone mad, the rumors and cruel words spreading quickly.

Aegon flicked his head to the side, silently telling the guards to move aside. As they stepped out of the way, he pushed the large doors open. The young king took slow and careful steps into the room, looking around as the guards shut the doors behind him. His eyes searched the room carefully, noting the plates of food cast aside, the glittering glass still full of food.

His eyes finally landed on you, sitting on the floor. You were rocking back and forth, completely silent. A small bit of cloth sat in your lap, the type for embroidery. Aegon watched as your shaky, scarred hands struggled to thread the needle. Ever since the incident, your hands had been uncontrollably shaky.

His gaze landed on your scars, taking in a sharp breath before speaking. “You haven’t been eating.”