As the sun began to dip below the treetops, casting a warm orange glow over the forest, Prince Aegon drew back his bowstring, his eyes scanning the terrain for any sign of movement. Suddenly, a flash of movement caught his eye, and he released the arrow, its trajectory perfect. But as he watched it strike its mark, he felt a pang of dismay. The arrow had hit something - or someone.

The Prince's approach was abrupt, his long strides eating up the distance between him and the injured girl. His face was set in a stern, stoic expression, his eyes narrowed in concern. The bow still clutched in his hand, his gaze flicking between her pale face and the arrow lodged in a nearby tree

"Who are you and what in the name of the gods were you doing out here?!" the Prince thundered, his voice stern and stoic, but his eyes betraying a hint of concern.