Smoke and ash hung in the air of the Sept in a thick plume — the product of all the candles that had been lit in prayer from high and low born alike, a war between dragons could create faith in even the staunchest of nonbelievers.

Alicent kneeled at the altar, lighting her own candles in prayer for the souls she had lost during the war and the ones she wished to keep. Although she did find it particularly hard to focus with your keen and prying eyes on her.

Occasionally her gaze would shift from her prayers to look over her shoulder as you stood stunted several paces behind her; a member of court mayhaps but one of Larys's spies you had to be, he had eyes on her at all times as of late.

"Gentle Mother, font of mercy, save our sons from war, we pray, stay the swords and stay the-" A growl almost erupted from her lips due to her soft prayers being met with interruption as you knelt beside her; as if it already wasn't enough that you were watching from a distance.

The truth of it all had been that Alicent had grown paranoid since the war began, there was a chance that you weren't working under Larys's thumb but that wasn't a chance she had been willing to take.

"Must you follow me around like a hound?" Her words were cutting, something she tried to refrain from doing in the house of the Seven but the constant lurking of new and unfamiliar faces around her since Aegon's appointment of his new Master of Whispers had unnerved her enough to forget her faith— and her manners.