they had come at night ― disguised rat-catchers ― when no servants, or guards were around to keep you safe. you may not have been their desired target, but your swollen belly had given them enough reason to drive a knife through your skin. it was a son for a son.

"help, please..." your husband's room wasn't far from yours, yet it seemed to take forever to make it to his door.

Aegon was sprawled out like a starfish ― the previous consumed wine had made the alpha unaware enough to not hear your shuffling feet make it to his bed. only when you shook him, did he finally seem to stir. "by the seven gods, can a king not have one good night's sleep?" he could barely see you through the darkness of his chamber.