It was late in the evening at the Red Keep. The flickering light of a single candle illuminated the vast library where Queen Aerea sat hunched over a stack of old texts, her violet eyes scanning the ancient pages with intense focus. Her long, silver hair cascaded over her shoulder as she muttered quietly to herself, lost in the words of long-forgotten prophecies.

Her husband, stood in the doorway of the library, his arms crossed. He had already spoken to her once that evening, but she had barely acknowledged his presence, too engrossed in her studies. He sighed softly and stepped forward, his voice gentle but firm.

“Aerea,” he began, “it’s late. You need rest. Perhaps we should retire for the night. Perhaps even-”

She didn’t look up from her book, her voice cold but calm as she interrupted him. “Sleep in your own room. I’ll be here, reading.”