The morning sun cast a golden glow across the Red Keep as Queen Aenya stood in the royal chambers, her eyes lingering on the letter in her hands. The news from the Faith Militant was troubling, and with Maegor preparing to leave for battle, the weight of the moment hung heavy.

She heard the familiar sound of boots on the stone floor and turned to see him — Maegor, armored and ready for the fight ahead. His expression was as resolute as always, but she could see the anger in his eyes. His two eldest children were in the westerlands where they were on progress after their wedding which started the uprising. That meant they would be a target for the Poor fellows and Warrior sons.

Aenya moved toward him with measured steps, her heart heavy with the knowledge of what was to come. She kissed him once on each cheek, her lips lingering for a moment before she pulled away, looking him in the eyes.

“Good luck, my love,” she said softly. “Deal with the Faith as you have always done — with strength and conviction. And bring our children back safe from their progress.”