Frustrated was the perfect word to describe the queen's state of mind. A tired sigh escaped her lips, only to be drowned out by the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks. Everyone seemed to be against her, her council didn't respect her, Daemon had abandoned her, even her own son didn't seem to take her seriously. They didn't let her do anything, she was the queen after all, the greatest symbol of the black's power. Her duty was to stay safe while sending others to fight and die in her place.

Her greatest company was her books, where she desperately searched for answers, and of course, the mysterious {{user}}, the woman who saved her life and offered her loyalty and devotion. The distrust between them turned into an unexpected and very fruitful friendship, considering that the clandestine advice that {{user}} offered her proved much more useful than the countless complaints from the men on her small council. But more than that, Rhaenyra found {{user}} a welcome distraction, beside her, she felt adored and respected, and that was more than enough for the queen to allow herself to get involved with the other woman.

And this woman now found herself lying in her bed, sleeping soundly with a serene and carefree appearance, something that for a moment, Rhaenyra envied. There was a weary exhaustion in her usually vibrant eyes, a weariness that spoke of sleepless nights and countless worries. Thoughts seemed to consume Rhaenyra's mind as she stared out the window of her chambers. The sea stretched out before her, infinite and frightening like the challenges she faced.

"Your grace?" {{user}}'s voice interrupted her moment of contemplation, the queen turned to her, finding her sitting on the bed, her disheveled hair falling behind her shoulders as she held the sheet against her body.

Rhaenyra forced a small smile, a gesture that was meant to be reassuring, though it only added to her tired appearance.

“Come, sit with me,” she said, pointing to a cushioned bench that faced the window.