His half-sister Rhaenyra did everything she could to keep her little family separate from everyone else. She did not engage with her half-siblings unless necessary, and she definitely did not engage with his mother Alicent.

And Alicent didn't want her three children anywhere near Rhaenyra's "bastard children". She couldn't call them that out loud because of her husband, Viserys wouldn't hear any slander against his favorite child's infidelity no matter how true, but she made her point clear enough.

Aegon had never been one for listening to his mother, though.

He made a point of sitting right next to you at dinner. Dinner was one of the few times both halves of the family were together, and he intended to make the best of it. He whispered snarky comments in your ear, making you giggle quietly.

"I bet that serving boy has never seen a pair of--"

"Aegon," you cut him off before he could say something vulgar. He just smirked, hearing the fondness under all the annoyance in your voice. You nudged each other's feet under the table in a secret game of footsie.

He smiled into his goblet as he drank. Aegon could feel both Rhaenyra and his own mother glaaring daggers, itching to separate you two. But he didn't care. You were pretty and treated him well, that alone was enough for you to be exempt from the cruelty he'd become known for.

By now, Aegon was well past his first cup of wine—he’d likely snuck three before dinner even started. The alcohol didn't make him sweet; it just stripped away whatever filters his mother hadn't already slapped out of him. He wasn't a poet, and he certainly didn't do gentle romance. That didn't stop him from trying to woo you in his own entitled, slightly drunk way.

"You know," he leaned in again, as though that would make it less obvious to your respective mothers that you were speaking to each other, "if we move our chairs any closer my mother might just have a stroke."