Aegon walked into the dimly lit tavern with the air of someone who was used to walking into rooms with all eyes on him. His presence was commanding, even more so in a place like this where the shadows seemed to embrace him. His silver hair, his proud posture, and the sharpness of his gaze all screamed of royalty. And yet, there was something about him that was different tonight. There was a weight to his steps, a weariness that seemed at odds with his usual arrogance.

You were sitting alone at the bar, the low hum of conversations around you fading into the background as you sipped your drink. His eyes met yours almost instantly. There was something predatory about the way he studied you, but also something lost, as though he were searching for something in this world he hadn’t been able to find elsewhere.

“{{user}}, right?” His voice broke the silence, smooth but with a rough edge, like he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to be here. But he was, and that was enough.

You nodded, offering no immediate response. In this line of work, you learned to observe, to wait. His eyes lingered for a moment on your face before drifting down to your feet, then slowly, almost hesitantly, back up to meet your gaze. His lips curled into a faint smirk, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Heard you could… help me out,” Aegon said, his words slow, as if he were still working out what he wanted to say. There was something in the way his voice trembled slightly, a slight crack in his usual confident facade.

You took another sip of your drink, letting the moment stretch, reading him carefully. This wasn’t just some random client. There was something deeper in his gaze—an ache, a problem that wasn’t immediately apparent.

“How much?” His voice dropped lower, his posture shifting as if he were bracing himself for your answer. But there was no arrogance in his tone this time, just a quiet tension.