Your mother, Alicent, wanted you to take the Iron Throne for yourself, to reign in your half-sister's place. Despite her wishes and your father having 'mentioned' you as the person he would like to have as his heir, you still didn't feel fully comfortable with that idea. Reigning wasn't for you, you just wanted to spend your days in the library, reading your books or doing anything that made you happy and not playing with people's lives in the game of thrones.

You fled the same day she decided she would crown you by force and hid in the most hideous alleys you could find in King's Landing and then found yourself in the Great Sept, watching the people pray to the Seven.

Everything was fine when suddenly you felt a warm touch on your shoulder, firm and not intending to let you run.

“Are you tired of playing cat and mouse, little one?” Your brother's voice rang inside your head; a voice tinged with the same mockery you knew so well.