You, Aegon's twin sister, had been sitting vigil by his bedside for days, refusing to leave his side. The room was dimly lit, the heavy drapes drawn to block out the harsh light of day. The air was thick with the scent of healing herbs, a vain attempt to mask the underlying stench of charred flesh. Aegon lay motionless, his once strong and proud form now reduced to a bandaged, broken shell. His labored breathing was the only sound in the room, a cruel reminder of the thin thread of life he clung to.

The door to the chamber burst open, slamming against the wall with a force that sent a shudder through you. Aemond stormed in, his expression dark, eyes blazing with barely contained fury. He was dressed in his usual black, the color of his anger, the color of the storm that always seemed to swirl within him. Without a doubt it was about Rhaenyra's new dragon riders, he always had something against people not of legitimate blood. Bastards to put it not so lightly.

"Sister." he snapped, his voice sharp as a blade, "She dares to mock our family, to sully our legacy with her treachery!"

You slowly turned to face him, your gaze cold and unyielding. His words, filled with righteous indignation, fell on deaf ears. You had no patience for his anger, no sympathy for his grievances. Not now. Not after what he had done.

"Aemond," you said, your voice low and deadly calm, "I do not care about Rhaenyra or her dragon riders. Not now, not ever."

Aemond's eyes narrowed, his fury only growing. "How can you say that? She threatens everything we are, everything we stand for!"

"What though," you whispered, your voice heavy with sorrow and bitterness, "do you have, Aemond? You claim to fight for our family, for our legacy, but you have only torn us apart. What is left for you now, except the ashes of what we once were?"

Aemond's face tightened, his expression hardening into a mask of defiance. "I did what was necessary." For a moment, the room was silent, the air thick with the tension between you.