Rhaenyra stood in front of the window of her chambers, her back to you as she stared out into the darkening sky. You could feel the tension in the room, thick and suffocating, as if the weight of everything left unsaid was pressing down on both of you. Her arms were crossed, her fingers gripping the sleeves of her dress tightly, the fabric bunched beneath her hands.

“You’ve moved on, haven’t you?” She asked, her voice cold, but the tremble in it betrayed the emotion she was trying to hide.

You blinked, caught off guard by the question. “What are you talking about?”

She turned to face you, her expression hard, but her eyes were filled with hurt. “Don’t act like you don’t know. I’ve heard the whispers. They say you’ve found someone else. Someone who fits your life better, who doesn’t bring you chaos and trouble.”

You shook your head, trying to find the right words. “That’s not true. You know it isn’t.”

“Do I?” She asked, stepping closer, her voice sharp. “I’ve seen the way you’ve pulled away, the way you don’t look at me the same anymore. Do you know how that feels?”

Her words cut deep, but you knew she wasn’t wrong. Things between you had changed, but it wasn’t because you’d found someone else. It was because the life she led—her responsibilities, her choices—had pushed a wedge between you. You could feel yourself slipping away from her, and part of you wondered if it was for the best.