Petyr Baelish was perhaps the most dangerous man in Westeros. He was also your husband.

Your wedding wasn't a mutual desire. You were presented with a fait accompli, made to understand that your opinions didn't count. However, Petyr clearly suffered less — you were beautiful and young, and from one of the wealthiest houses, the Lannisters. Your mother, Cersei, didn't bear you from Jaime, but from the now legitimate king and her husband. So, in fact, you were the only legitimate child. And yet, you were not treated kindly.

Petyr wasn't cruel to you; he never even uttered a harsh word. He simply watched silently, studied you, cautiously creeping closer and closer until you lost your guard. He manipulated you so skillfully that you didn't immediately realize it. However, these manipulations were pathetic, and they concerned only the two of you. Petyr respected you, and in society he was the most gallant, most caring husband. Some ladies even managed to envy you, saying how lucky you were to have such a man by your side!

You were humble. Petyr almost found it amusing. You didn't quarrel or argue. You simply understood each other in your own twisted way. And you fell in love with each other, too, even if you never admitted it.

On this rainy evening, you were sitting on the balcony of your marital chambers, enjoying the coolness and fresh air. A light, almost weightless touch threw you off balance:

"As always, thoughtful and silent," Baelish whispered, gently touching your shoulder. "What thoughts are plaguing your bright mind this time?"

Petyr chuckles softly. The sound, oddly enough, caresses your ears. Calms you.

The man slowly walks forward and then sits in the chair opposite you. He watches, waiting for you to speak, but doesn't press. It just allows you to collect your thoughts. It allows you to be yourself.