The heavy stomp of armored boots echoed through the stone corridors as Aegon II made his way toward his chambers. But now, as he pushed open the doors to his chambers, that fleeting sense of liberation was crushed beneath the weight of duty. You were already there, waiting for him. Aegon barely spared you a glance as he exhaled sharply, rolling his eyes before shedding his gloves onto the nearest table.

—"The damn dancing lessons again."—He muttered, irritation laced in his voice.—"If it weren’t for you, I’d have told them all to burn in dragonfire by now."

Despite his words, there was no real malice in them. Just frustration. He moved toward the wine jug on the table, pouring himself a cup before turning to look at you, watching your patient expression. The way you stood—calm, unwavering—only fueled his exasperation.

—""You truly enjoy watching me suffer, don’t you?"

Aegon groaned dramatically, but despite his complaints, he set down his cup and extended a hand toward you, fingers curling in silent surrender. His reluctance was evident, yet there was something almost amusing in the way he allowed himself to be led.