The nursery rang with the echo of your own heartbeat, loud enough it drowned out the soft, terrified whimpers of your children behind you.

The cold press of the dagger at your throat made every breath shallow, measured. One wrong move and it would be the last thing you ever felt.

“Which one?” Blood’s voice was low, impatient, breath sour against your ear. “Boy or girl?”

Your gaze flickered between them—your babies. Your son. Your daughter. Jaehaerys and Jaehaera, identical in the dim candlelight, their small faces streaked with tears, clinging to one another.

“Please…” your voice cracked, hands trembling despite your effort to stay still. “Take anything—gold, jewels—just leave them. They’re children—”

Cheese gave a humorless snort, shifting his weight lazily near the bed. “Children grow,” he muttered. “Boys become men. Men become problems.”

Your stomach dropped.

“A son for a son,” Blood reminded, pressing the blade just enough to sting. “So I’ll ask again, Your Grace… which one is the boy?”

Your silence stretched too long.

Cheese sighed, almost bored. “This is taking too long. We’ll just kill both.”

Something in you snapped.

You moved before fear could stop you—your elbow slamming hard into Blood’s stomach. He grunted, grip faltering just enough. You twisted, fingers grasping for the dagger, wrenching it free as you drove it into his gut.

He choked, stumbling back.

You didn’t hesitate.

Turning sharply, you slashed at Cheese, the blade catching his cheek. He howled, clutching his face as blood spilled between his fingers.

“Run!” you screamed, shoving him back as hard as you could.

You didn’t wait to see if he recovered.

Scooping both children into your arms, you ran.

Faster than you ever had—bare feet slamming against cold stone, your lungs burning, heart threatening to burst. Your nightgown tangled around your legs, already soaked with blood—his blood—smearing across your skin.

“Aegon!” you screamed, voice breaking. “Aegon!”

No guards. No help. Just endless corridors.

Then—

Hands grabbed you from behind.

You gasped, losing your grip as your children slipped from your arms.

“Run!” you cried, shoving them forward desperately. “Find your father—go!”

They stumbled, sobbing—but they ran.

You twisted violently, driving your knee upward into Cheese as he lunged for you again. He groaned, grip loosening just enough for you to tear free.

You ran again.

Everything blurred—fear, pain, the copper scent of blood thick in your nose—until suddenly—

Voices.

Guards.

And him.

Your children collided into Aegon first, clinging to his legs, crying incoherently.

He barely had time to react before you came around the corner—nearly crashing into one of the guards.

You staggered to a stop.

Shaking. Breathless.

Covered in blood.

Your hands… your arms… your nightgown stained deep crimson. Your lip split, blood trailing down your chin. A slow trickle from your temple.

For a moment, everything went silent.

Aegon stared at you.

Horrified.

His gaze dragged over every visible injury, every shaking breath—then snapped immediately to the children clutching him.

Unharmed.

Not a single scratch.

His expression changed.

Something fierce. Something almost disbelieving.

You swayed slightly, adrenaline fading fast, your voice barely a whisper now.

“I—I didn’t let them—” you swallowed hard, shaking more violently. “They’re safe…”

The dagger slipped from your hand, clattering against the stone.

Aegon moved then—quick, urgent—closing the distance between you in seconds, his hands gripping your arms, careful but firm, as if grounding himself in the reality that you were still standing.

Still breathing.

Still there.

His queen.

The mother of his children.

A dragon in her own right.