The afternoon sun warmed the Red Keep’s garden, where Queen Aegylla sat on a stone bench beside her brother. He patiently explained the nuances of rulership, his voice steady, but her attention drifted to everything except the lesson.

She studied him... his olive-toned skin kissed by Dornish sun, dark hair with a single white streak, so different from her pale, and silver waves, yet they shared the violet eyes. Maybe Dornish boys were her type, she thought, the notion blooming with a faint, mischievous smile.

He then cleared his throat sharply.

Aegylla blinked, straightened, and smiled: "Yes, teach me again. I was just... thinking. Didn't get much sleep..."