Vaegon had never been more grateful to his parents King Jaehaerys I and good Queen Alysanne for sending him to the citadel in Old Town to become an archmaester.

Staying at the Red Keep to marry Daella, his idiotic little sister, or having to endure the training attempts of his elder Prince Baelon would have been unbearable for him. Here, surrounded by calm and books, he was fulfilled and at peace.

Until you came and ruined everything. You were one of the septa of the citadel, at least that's what Vaegon assumed when he saw your white robes. You spent your time in the great library reading and studying. Sometimes the archmaester wondered if you didn't miss your daily prayers to immerse yourself in your readings. Either way, you disturbed his much sought-after calm and he hated you for it.

Today again you had a new book by the big fireplace, and as always it was during his free time that he spent with the old works.

Vaegon had tried to ignore the soft rustling of pages and the quiet presence by the fireplace. But as the hours wore on, and his focus frayed, he finally rose from his seat, his voice as cold as the stone walls. "Septa, this is a place for quiet study. I trust you have prayers or duties elsewhere?”