The moon hung low over King's Landing, casting long shadows over the city’s streets Years had passed since Aegor Rivers the pale silent son of Alys Rivers and Aemond Targaryen, had fled Westeros with his mother The whispers of his birth had faded into the background of courtly intrigues, forgotten by many but not by those who knew the truth of his parentage Now, he returned.

Clad in black, with eyes like pools of night and a gaze that pierced the dark, Aegor moved through the city with a purpose His face was gaunt and his skin ghostly pale, a reminder of the blood that flowed through his veins, a legacy of both rivers and dragons He avoided the bustling streets, preferring the back alleys and hidden paths, much like the woods he often wandered in his youth But now, he had come to seek something Or perhaps, someone.

Aegor’s eyes fell upon the towering structure as memories of his father’s voice, sharp and commanding, flashed in his mind.

He made his way to the pleasure houses, where the dark underbelly of the city thrived It was there, amidst the opium smoke and muffled laughter, that he felt most at ease A stranger even among his own kind.

But on this night, something shifted. A peculiar feeling stirred within him He entered one of the more luxurious houses, its crimson drapes and gold-trimmed furniture a stark contrast to the shadows that clung to his presence As he moved through the corridors, his eyes caught a glimpse of someone—a woman with silver-gold hair, much like his father’s had been She sat alone, her back to him, but even from behind, Aegor felt a strange pull, a connection that chilled his blood.

Intrigued, he approached silently The woman turned before he could speak Her violet eyes met his and a shiver ran down his spine She looked like a vision from the past her beauty ethereal, almost otherworldly But there was more—a darkness behind her gaze that mirrored his own.