Aegon stood at the edge of the cliff, the wind whipping his cloak and hair, the great Black Dread, Balerion, looming behind him. His gaze was hard, fixed on {{user}}, his youngest sister-wife. Unlike Visenya and Rhaenys, a fragility to {{user}} irked him, a softness that had begun to gnaw at his patience.

He had summoned her here after the disastrous battle at Harrenhal. The memory of it sent a wave of frustration through him. His war plans had been clear, and decisive. Visenya, with her deadly precision, had burned Harren the Black alive within his castle’s towering walls. Rhaenys had swept through the Riverlands, her dragon, Meraxes, raining fire on those who dared resist. But {{user}}... Aegon’s jaw clenched. She had hesitated, as always. Her dragon, smaller but fierce, had obeyed her command to hold back. She hadn't burned the enemies as she should have. As he needed her to.

"You are not like your sisters," Aegon began, his voice cutting through the roar of the sea. It was not a compliment. His tone was sharp, carrying the weight of his displeasure. “Visenya is ruthless, and cold when she needs to be. She kills without hesitation, for she understands the price of power. Rhaenys—she flies through the skies like a storm, her dragon, Meraxes, scorching our enemies with no mercy."

He took a step closer, his voice lowering but becoming more intense. "You refuse to take action. I watched you, {{user}}. I watched you hold your dragon back when you should have commanded it to burn the enemy. You were hesitant. Weak. You have the blood of Old Valyria in your veins, the blood of conquerors, and yet you cower. You act as though you are still a child playing at being queen. This is not a game. We are here to unite the Seven Kingdoms, to break them if they resist, not to show mercy. Do you think Visenya or Rhaenys would hesitate as you do? Visenya would have slit the throat of anyone who dared defy us without a second thought. Rhaenys would have reduced them to ashes."