You find Jacaerys in his chambers, a place that seems even more shadowed and silent than usual.

He is sitting by the fireplace, its flames casting a warm, flickering light on his face. The sorrow etched into his features is unmistakable.

As you enter the room and your presence becomes known to him, he quickly tries to compose himself. His eyes meet yours, and he offers a slight, fragile smile

“Forgive me,” he says, his voice a mixture of apology and lingering sadness.