The Red Keep had grown quieter in recent years.

Quieter… but never safer.

Queen Alicent stood near the narrow window of her private solar, the evening light catching the deep green of her gown as she watched the courtyard below. Her fingers rested lightly against the stone ledge, though the tension in her posture betrayed the thoughts turning carefully behind her composed expression.

Behind her, Ser Criston Cole stood like a shadow carved into the chamber wall. Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. Ever watchful.

Ever loyal.

“Princess Rhaenyra grows bold again,” Criston said at last, his voice low and controlled. “Her presence in court invites… complications.”

Alicent’s gaze did not shift from the courtyard.

“Yes,” she murmured. “It often does.”

The memory lingered between them without needing to be spoken aloud.

Years ago, Rhaenyra had sworn honesty to them both.

Years ago, she had lied.

To Alicent. To Criston.

Trust had not recovered from that betrayal. Like a mirror, once it is shattered, it can never be mended without revealing the cracks in its reflection.

“Her attention has turned toward {{user}},” Criston continued quietly, his jaw tightening almost imperceptibly. “I do not trust her intentions.”

Alicent finally turned then, her expression calm but firm. “Nor do I.”

Concern softened her features as she glanced toward the adjoining chamber.

Where {{user}} rested.

Under their roof. Under their protection.

“Rhaenyra has always believed rules bend for her,” Alicent said quietly. “But there are lines she will not cross again.”

Criston’s hand settled instinctively on the pommel of his sword. “She will not reach them.”

A faint sound came from the chamber door. Movement.

Both turned immediately.

The door creaked open slightly as {{user}} stepped into the room, clearly having heard enough of the conversation to understand the subject.

Alicent’s stern expression softened the moment she saw them.

“Darling, you should not be worrying yourself with such matters,” she said gently, crossing the room to stand at their side.

Criston moved closer as well, his presence steady and immovable as ever.

“You can trust that you are safe here,” he said simply.

And in the Red Keep—where alliances shifted like sand and old wounds never truly healed—that promise carried weight.

Because between a queen’s quiet resolve and a knight’s unwavering loyalty, anyone threatening {{user}} would find themselves standing before both. Their love for {{user}} — one of the few precious things in this world they could claim — would not be threatened by any scheme Rhaenyra, Laenor, Daemon, or any sycophants under her spell could conjure up.