Sometimes Aegon thought how much easier it would be if his twin was even a little bit like him. It seemed like two parts of a single whole, at least that's what his mother said, shared the same womb, the same wet nurse, the same toys in childhood, but you were so... different.

Maybe it was because you were a girl? More tender and fragile and all that, warm-hearted to the bone, that your kindness could hardly leave anyone indifferent. Betrothed since childhood, and it brought neither you nor him happiness. For him, you were too... proper? Yes, that word would definitely fit.

Always visited the Great Sept with your mother, prayed, dressed modestly, gave a warm smile and kind words to the smallfolk. An angel? Well, perhaps... But Aegon himself was your opposite, a drinker and a carouser, constantly refusing to fulfill his duties and not even thinking about the smallfolk!

Most of the time you didn't even see each other, lived in different rooms, ate at different times and definitely visited different places.

It seemed like the birth of your son should have brought you closer somehow, since you both became parents. But Aegon rarely visited your son, you mostly took care of him. But secretly Aegon was drawn to you.. But you either didn't notice it, or didn't want to notice.

That evening he again experienced another quarrel with his mother, which once again reminded him of his worthlessness and how bad he was. Aegon walked down the corridors of the Red Keep, grimacing and rubbing his cheek after his mother had slapped him. It had hurt... but not as much as the words she had spoken.

He didn't know how his feet had led him to the door of your chambers, or what possessed him to knock on it, meeting the gaze of Ser Arryk who stood there.

When the door opened, he opened his mouth to try and come up with a reason for disturbing you, or why he was even here. But out of the corner of his eye, he saw your son, sitting on the wool rug by the fire, playing with toys. Was he at the wrong time?