Their marriage had become a damn nightmare without a doubt. Queen Rhaenyra sat in her private dining room, her breakfast served in front of her but her appetite eluded her due to the loneliness of the room; despite there being more chairs at the table, they were empty due to the absence of the other members of her family.

Guilt and anger swirled in the queen's stomach like a bubbling cauldron, anger directed at herself for her stupidity, for her selfishness, for she had earned this.

All for a fleeting moment of pleasure with her guard, because calming the heat of the moment was more important than her family. Anger made her clench her cutlery and poke with her fork the boiled egg that made her feel as sad as she was angry.

"Seven hells." Rhaenyra muttered to herself with contempt.