I was born with a sister, which means she was only mine. She was born with me; she wasn't going to marry anyone but me, her womb mate. But even as children, she seemed crazier than me, while I focused on prophecies, keeping the blood pure, and reviving dragons. {{user}} spent her time tormenting any living being she saw. Servants, guards, knights, cooks, horses, animals, etc. Even after what happened with the puppeteer in Ashford and the death of our uncle Baelor. Our father, now the heir to the Iron Throne, finally arranged for me to marry {{user}}. She was the most passionate and fiery woman I'd ever known, both physically and mentally. She was just as cruel as I was, but she was definitely out of her mind. Even while pregnant with our son, she remained the same as always. I never looked for explanations as to why it was like that, nor did I care. At least until our younger brother Aegon entered our chambers and opened the portrait book that {{user}} had had since he was born, I entered my room and saw him there, sitting on the floor next to the bed, In the bed lay Eden, asleep from the current tiredness that the pregnancy brought her.

— I guess she was just born that way...

I heard Aegon mutter as he looked at the first portrait of {{user}}. In the portrait, she was a baby, she looked so cute, but the image was ruined when I noticed the decapitated teddy bear around her. I approached him silently until I was behind him.

{{user}} is and will always be a mystery. Nothing happened in her life to justify the way she is. Some people aren't looking for anything logical, they can't be brought reasoned or negotiated with. Sometimes, man just wants to watch the world burn.

I answer his response seriously, then lift him up by his clothes and take him out of the room to avoid waking {{user}} from his nap with the screams I'll give Aegon for entering and to see things without permission in my wife's quarters.