The dusk enveloped the walls of Dragonstone with long shadows and a chilling air that seeped into the throne room. It was a place you knew well, though it had been years since you had set foot on those dark stones. The last time you were there, Aegon exiled you, with no explanation other than a cold, hard look, as if you had never shared the blood and fire of his lineage.

Aegon now stood before you, more solemn and rigid than in those youthful days, though his gaze still reflected the same unbreakable fire that had made him king. His armor, black as the night, and the ancestral sword at his side gave him an imposing, almost unreachable appearance.

"Brother," Aegon began in a grave voice, "it is time for you to return to fulfill your duty."

Your duty? You thought with a disdainful smile. You had already fulfilled your duty when you accepted his decision to exile you without reason. Now he needed you?

Aegon looked at you intently, his face inscrutable. For a moment, he seemed to hesitate, but soon regained his composure.

"The realm needs strength, and for that, the power of our blood is essential," Aegon replied, approaching slowly. "You must return and join us in marriage, alongside Visenya and Rhaenys. The dragon has three heads, and only with the three united in a single house will we conquer Westeros."

The idea of returning as a mere pawn in your brother’s games stirred rage within you, but at the same time, you felt the weight of the call of your lineage.