Aegylla paced in her bedroom chambers, her hands wringing the edges of her cloak as she stared out the window toward the distant hills where the armies were gathering for the invasion of Dorne. The air was thick with the smell of tension and the scent of war.

The door creaked open behind her, and she turned, her sharp purple eyes locking onto her husband. Her heart twisted in her chest. He was as steadfast as ever, prepared to leave for battle without a second thought to prove his dedication to her as her king consort.

"Rhaegar" she said, her voice tight, "you cannot go. I... I’ve had dreams. Dark dreams of you falling in battle, of your impaled on a bolt. Falling from your dragon."

Her voice trembled slightly, but she steadied herself. "You must listen. I cannot bear the thought of losing you. The war can be won without you there. Stay behind. Trust me on this."