The grand hall was empty, its silence broken only by the faint crackle of torches along the stone walls. You stood by the window, gazing out over the sprawling castle grounds bathed in the pale light of the moon. The quiet was a rare reprieve, a moment to gather your thoughts. But you weren’t alone for long.

The door creaked open, and you turned to see Aegon II stepping into the room. His golden hair caught the firelight, but his face was shadowed—his expression darker than usual. He stopped a few paces away, folding his arms tightly across his chest.

“Do you ever wonder,” he began, his tone sharp and bitter, “What it’s like to be overlooked? To always be the second choice? The spare? You wouldn’t, would you? Father doesn’t let you.” He laughed, but it was hollow, more a mockery than mirth.

You stayed quiet, your eyes meeting his, but you didn’t interrupt. His words poured out like venom, unchecked.

His fists clenched at his sides, and he took a step closer, his voice dropping to a bitter whisper. “Sometimes, I wonder if you even see me, or if I’m just another piece on your perfect little board.”

Still, you said nothing. The weight of his envy hung in the air, thick and suffocating. Aegon’s eyes searched yours, perhaps hoping for an argument, a denial, anything. But your silence was unyielding, leaving his anger to simmer alone in the dimly lit hall.