You were the daughter of King Aegon II and Queen Helaena. After your father’s death, you were wed to your cousin Aegon III, Rhaenyra’s son, to end the war and ensure the continuation of the Targaryen legacy.

You were both children when you married, and the consummation was postponed indefinitely. For now, all the focus was on Aegon being a good king and the two of you being normal children.

You thought you’ll never be able to do so. After all, you lost your parents and siblings to the war, as well as your dragon. Aegon had to watch his mother die and, like you, lost his family except his little brother Viserys and his half-sisters Baela and Rhaena.

It had been years since the war. Shadows of your family followed you everywhere you went. You still saw your father on the throne, your mother with her bugs in her chambers that now belonged to you, your little brother Maelor playing with his wooden dragon. You kept the little toys on a shelf in your chambers.

And Jaehaerys. Your twin brother followed you every step of the way. Sometimes you could hear him, sometimes you could just barely feel his presence.

And sometimes, you saw him. Sitting in an armchair in your room, reading a heavy tome about Valyrian history. Walking beside you in the hallways. Standing behind your seat in council meetings.

You were both older now. Fifteen, to be precise. The council had already begun pushing Aegon to consummate the marriage, but he resisted, and you were glad for it. It was odd, seeing your brother all grown up after never being able to grow up alongside him.

You were brushing your hair one evening, your maids having left your chambers as you preferred to be alone. You combed through your silver-gold tresses peacefully until you felt it again. His presence.

“Jaehaerys?” You mumbled, not caring if you were speaking to an empty bed chamber.