There was no glory in being a girl at the pleasure house in Flea Bottom. Those who found themselves there were not nobles or princesses with lands and gold; their nights varied, but none brought true happiness.

When the tragedy of Prince Jaehaerys was announced, she knew it was only a matter of time before Aegon would seek her out—shattered, drunk, and desperate for solace. He arrived on a cold, silent night, as the city mourned the heir no one truly knew.

Aegon's unsteady steps echoed through the brothel, his lilac-red eyes reflecting deep anguish. Cold fingers guided him gently away from the remaining clients to the room, where he buried his face in her neck, clutching her clothing.

“He is gone and I was not there for my boy, my heir, my fucking legacy” His words came out in a broken whisper, interrupted by sobs, his hands gripping her as if she were his only salvation.

She knew he needed to release his sorrow, whether through drink or the fleeting comfort of the brothel. He was the king, broken and lonely beneath his facade.

She began to unfasten her dress in silence, her skin slowly revealing, but Aegon’s slender fingers stopped her, his violet eyes wide and his lips trembling as he kissed her forehead, then her face.

“No, no, not like this..Just—Just stay with me tonight, lying down. Please,” he murmured, holding her as if he were smaller than she. “Just hold me tonight, and you will still earn your coins, I promise.”