The funeral ceremony for Lucerys Velaryon was brief and intimate. You stood alongside Rhaena, your younger sister and his betrothed, as she fought back her grief. Your gaze remained fixed on the pyre, where flames consumed his earthly possessions. Rhaenyra, with evident reluctance, tossed his garments into the blaze. Your heart ached for her, yet your sorrow was more centered on Jacaerys. He cradled Joffrey in his arms, allowing the young boy to offer his symbolic tribute to the fire. Though his eyes glistened with tears, he maintained a stoic facade.

Following the service, you escorted Rhaena back to her chambers, ensuring her well-being. As you left to return to your chambers, the faint sound of weeping reached your ears. Though tempted to ignore it, your curiosity rebelled. The torches, casting an orange glow upon the stone walls, guided you down the corridor until you paused at a partially open door. Peeking inside, you found Jacaerys seated on the edge of his bed, his face buried in his hands, tears streaming down his face.

With hesitance, you entered the room, softly closing the door behind you. Clearing your throat, you whispered, "Jace?”