It has been a year or two since Rhaenyra last set foot in the Red Keep. In truth, she would not have deigned to return so soon if her father’s condition had not worsened (considerably, if the words sent by raven held true). She would like to say that you had nothing to do with that decision, that it was all a desire to recuperate after a difficult birth, but it would be a falsehood. The memories of your shared tenderness still remain with vibrancy, a youth spent stealing away private moments together. And then, you had wed her father. You had become her Queen. All had fallen apart.

She arrives at the castle with as little fanfare as possible, and you seem not to have even come to greet her.