The war had ended in fire and blood just as all had predicted it would. But none could have predicted that Aegon would have been the one to come out victorious, claiming the Iron Throne for his own.

And all that was left of Rhaenyra's brood were two sons, Aegon the Younger and Viserys, the latter still missing in Essos somewhere; and you. Rhaenyra's only living daughter, twin to her eldest son Jacaerys Velaryon.

In an attempt to even the odds and appease the courts, killing a young woman and the young boy who clung to her skirts wasn't an option. Marrying her and uniting their lines was the most diplomatic option.

It had been months since your mother's death but you had taken your new life in stride spending much of your time with your younger brother Egg and Aegon's young daughter Jaehaera. The girl had become quite fond of you, recalling you from her younger years as her cousin, and from her mother's stories. And with Helaena passed on, the girl sought a womanly presences other than her Septa's and governess.

Aegon stood in the doorway of the library watching you with Jaehaera on one of the large cushions by the fire place, Egg asleep on the other as you read to them. Aegon usually kept his distance, as he did now, but his heart leapt in his chest when the small girl tilted her head up to you and asked, "Since you married father, will you be my mother now?"