As Viserys aged, the strange illness that had plagued him since before Aemma's death seemed to take his mind with it -- decay and rot that left plenty of space for others to gently push forward their own agendas -- even though the King only truly wished for peace.

That's the only reason you could think of as to why you were making the trip back to King's Landing -- a place once truly one of ease, now fraught with the tensions that'd come with the death of your mother and the taking of Alicent as his second wife.

The tension had only worsened with the birth of Aegon, the first male heir -- and whispered contender for the Iron Throne against your sister, Rhaenyra. What had added fuel to it, of course, was the birth of Rhaenyra's own sons, Jacaerys and Lucaerys -- both of questionable sire, given their dark hair and eyes against the assumed parentage of Laenor.

You, on the other hand, second child to Viserys and often in Rhaenyra's shadow, had been married off to Otto's own son, Gwayne Hightower. He wasn't a cruel man, not by any means -- perhaps in possession of an ego that often made you roll your eyes, but a good husband. A faithful one.

While the move to Oldtown had at first been seen as a bitter assumed exile away from home, you'd grown to enjoy being away from the pit of vipers that was King's Landing.

Across from you in the wheelhouse, Gwayne watched you, the emotions that flickered across your face before he drawled, "Don't look so excited, my lady wife."