The cold wind blew in through the tall windows of the Red Keep, stirring the heavy curtains as if even the gods mourned her fate. You were kneeling before the makeshift altar in your chambers, the candle almost extinguished and the holy book open before you. Your lips moved in silent prayer, a request impossible to grant: that your soul be spared from what your body had already been condemned to endure.

You wished you had followed the path you dreamed of as a child, dressed in white, your hands given to the Seven. You wished you had been a sept, far from intrigue, far from violence, far from him. But you were Maegor's sister, and being his wife was an obligation you could not refuse. The blood of the dragon demanded sacrifices.

You raised your weary eyes when you heard the door open. Maegor entered with his usual grandeur, his boots echoing on the stone floor, his relentless gaze fixed on you. He seemed as unreachable as a wall, as distant as a cruel god.

"Still praying?" His deep voice broke the silence. "Your gods cannot protect you, and you know it."

You rose slowly, smoothing the folds of your light-colored dress, your belly still slightly marked by your recent pregnancy. Your body ached, your mind ached even more. Maegor approached, and you felt his shadow fall over you, heavy, suffocating.

Breathing shakily, you finally found the courage to speak, your voice steady despite your racing heart: "I have done my duty by you, and given you an heir." Your throat went dry, but you forced the words out. "I beg you, let us live henceforth as brother and sister."

There was a silence that seemed to last an eternity. Maegor's dark eyes fixed on yours, and for a moment, you dared to think he might accept. But then his lips curved into an almost cruel, humorless smile.

"That is what we are doing."