He had found you. After panic spread through the red keep on where you had disappeared to, he’d found you. Watching Aegon cry and suffer was dreadful, so you’d decided to get away. You’d wandered for days, just walking, until you came across a familiar field. Burnt by fire with caskets of armor lining the grass. Rooks rest. You couldn’t do anything but stand numbly, you’d thought you’d gotten peace. But no

“Grieving for a man who is not dead once more?” Its Aemond, smug as always