She had come down to the armory herself — as usual. She didn’t send messengers, not when things concerned the integrity of weapons. One of the archers had reported damp conditions affecting the bowstrings, and as military advisor, she did not tolerate negligence. Especially in matters that kill when they fail.

She moved with purpose, boots thudding dully against cold stone. The air smelled of rust, old leather, dust, and something almost metallic — like dried blood. She tugged off one glove, fingers brushing along a row of fresh arrowheads. They clung slightly to the oil.

Then — a door slammed shut behind her.

Hard. Intentional.

She turned sharply.

The King. Standing in the doorway was Aegon II Targaryen, dressed in a dark, half-buttoned doublet, a loose shirt showing underneath, and the unmistakable air of a man who had not intended to be found. His hair was tousled, his eyes half-lidded. In one hand — a goblet. Empty.

He didn’t notice her at first. But when he did, he exhaled — somewhere between disappointment and dread.

"You," he said, after a beat, like he was checking if she was real.

"And you," she answered coolly. "In yet another room where no one invited you."

She walked past him to the door, tested the handle. Once. Twice. A solid click — locked from the outside.

Pause. Heavy.

“Did you shut it?”

“I just…” He looked at the door, then at her, then back again. “...walked in.”

She crossed her arms behind her back. The motion drew her cloak tighter across her shoulders, and suddenly, the space between them felt narrower.

“Excellent,” she said. “We’re locked in.”

“Wonderful,” he muttered, stepping past her and dropping heavily onto a wooden crate near the wall. “No council. No Alicent. No Otto. Just silence. Blessed silence.”

He sank into the seat like gravity had been waiting all day for him. His belt slipped sideways, his goblet clattered to the floor and rolled into the shadows. He didn’t retrieve it.

They were alone. In the armory. With the scent of oil, iron, leather, and war hanging around them. And with every breath they didn’t take, the air between them thickened.