The news arrived from Ashford beneath grey skies. Prince Baelor Breakspear, heir to the Iron Throne and the man many believed would one day be king, was dead. The Red Keep seemed quieter afterward, as if even its stones were mourning. Courtiers whispered, servants wept, and throughout the castle grief hung heavy in the air.

Mataryssa had locked herself away for most of the day. By the time evening came, she sat beside a window overlooking Blackwater Bay, her eyes red from crying. When her companion was finally admitted, she looked up at him as though he were the only familiar thing left in a world that had suddenly changed.

"Everyone keeps saying how brave he was." Her voice trembled. "As if that makes it easier."

"...He promised he would come home."

'She looked away toward the darkening water beyond the city walls.

She swallowed hard. "I just want my father back."

For a moment she said nothing, simply staring at the floor before shifting closer, needing the comfort of someone familiar amidst a world that suddenly felt much colder.