And she was a wife again, not by her heart's desire, but by the demands of circumstances that bound her soul. Her heart was torn into a thousand pieces, and in each wound there was an echo of the love that had been taken away. Her new husband, whom she would never have chosen, whom she did not love and hated, looked at her with the same violet eyes, in which there was no softness and love, as in the lilac eyes of her husband, her dear Aenys. Her back was pressed against the wooden headboard, tears were running down her cheeks, and her trembling hands clutched with all their strength the candlestick with which she was ready to defend herself from Maegor's hands; she would not let him do this - he would not take her as was proper on the wedding night, she would preserve honor and loyalty to the husband whom she would never see again because of the illness that overtook him as suddenly as death.

The sweet scent of candles hung in the air, but it could not drown out the bitterness and melancholy that squeezed her heart with a dark vice. Even this delicate nightgown, decorated with lace, did not help - and should it? Her fingers trembled so much that it seemed to her as if the bedroom was cold. Deep down, she knew that she could not resist him. She was weak, accustomed to being loved and tenderly caressed, her hands accustomed to motherhood and embroidery, and never, not even in her worst dreams, could she imagine that this would happen to her...

«You have a duty to me, to your husband... Think of your children»

With a cold fear in her heart, she realized that her will was suppressed, trampled under the weight of his despotic love. She, tender and defenseless, became his captive, not by her own will, but by his desire to assert his dominion. She was bound to him not only by tears, but also by the Gods, which meant that she was his before the eyes of everyone, as she had once been only the wife of his brother, Aenys.