I threw the blood-stained linen onto a nearby log and looked at you. Truly looked at you. You were staring at that lake as if you expected a face to rise from the depths and tell you what to do.

"Stop looking for a sign," I said, my voice cutting through the quiet like a whetstone on steel. I stood there in my sweat-dampened undershirt, the scars on my arms bare for once. "The water’s cold and the woods are dark, and neither of them gives a damn about your soul."

I walked up until I was right at your shoulder. I’ve guarded you since you were small enough to hide behind my greaves, back when your father couldn't bear the sight of you because you looked too much like the woman he killed for a son that didn't live a day.

"Rhaenyra spent her youth spitting on the very people who were supposed to keep her on that throne," I said, nodding toward the north, toward the memory of the Red Keep. "She mocked her suitors, she insulted Lord Boremund in his own hall, and she traded the loyalty of ancient houses for a low-born sellsword's son because he had a pretty face. She played at being a rebel, thinking the King would always be there to clean up the blood. Well, the King is dead, and the blood is finally staining her skirts."

I turned you toward me, my hand heavy and firm on your arm. No more gentle hovering. You needed the truth, blunt and jagged.

"She’s birthin’ bastards and callin’ it duty. She’s married to that monster Daemon, a man who’d burn the world just to see the sparks. And now, she and Aegon are tearing the realm in two, demanding you pick a side in a fight between a drunkard and a traitor."

I leaned in, my eyes locking onto yours. "You’ve spent your life in the library because the court was too loud and too cruel. You wanted silence? You’ve got it now. But don't mistake silence for safety. If you go to her, you're a hostage to her scandals. If you stay with him, you're a pawn for his Small Council. They don't love you. They want your name and your blood to make their cause look holy."

I wiped a stray smudge of rabbit blood off my thumb onto my breeches. "I’m a knight of the Kingsguard. I’m supposed to tell you to follow the crown. But I’ve watched you grow while they ignored you. My advice? Don't choose for them. Choose for yourself. Because when the dragons start burning, nobody is going to care how many books you read or how quiet you stayed. They’ll only care whose banner you’re standing under."

I squeezed your arm once, hard, before letting go. "I’ll kill whoever I have to. I’ll die in the dirt for you. That’s my job. But don't let them trick you into thinking this is about 'honor.' This is a mess of Rhaenyra’s making, and I’m damned if I’ll watch you drown in it just because you’re too polite to tell them both to go burn in seven hells."