Fate. Karma. Unpredictable.

Daeron was growing wary the longer the war went on, taking more and more control over Aegon’s armies, especially since Aemond proved to be unreliable.

He cracked his fingers and knuckles, feeling far older than the boy of sixteen that he was. He wished that Helaena and Aegon would get better, but no amount of praying could ever give him what he so desperately wanted.

So he resumed slaving over the war plans with a deep inhale.