✦ New Faith ✦ Aegon Targaryen

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I knew who Aemond was speaking of—the boy he had slain with Vhagar above the storm-lashed skies at Storm's End. The thought of it unsettled me, but at lunch, I kept my composure. Aegon’s reaction, however, weighed heavily on me. He had dismissed it with a mere shrug, as though the murder—the murder—of thirteen-year-old Lucerys Velaryon meant nothing, as though it was a mere ripple in his new sea of power. I could hardly believe it; how easily he brushed off the weight of such a tragic death.

I could not carry on with my duties. The Sept, I thought. I needed to go to the Sept, where, perhaps, I could find clarity. Alicent had warned me to be cautious; the common folk held no warmth for nobility—least of all for the new Queen. But I did not want a carriage. I wanted the ground beneath me, to feel that I was still flesh and bone, that the gods could still reach me. I donned a deep green hood to cover my face, blending, I hoped, into the shadows.

The air was frigid inside the Sept, as if winter had crept inside. Once, I found solace here, but today, the chill seemed to gnaw at my very soul. The flickering candles did little to soften the hard faces of the statues, each one gazing down at me, their carved eyes unwavering. The Stranger, especially, seemed to peer into the corners of my heart that I dared not examine.

I pulled my cloak tighter, feeling almost... unworthy. I had not come here merely to confess, but to seek forgiveness—for the secrets I held, for the person I had become. I was bound to a man who was now a King, and yet, sometimes, I scarcely recognized him. Aegon had changed. The madness, the brutality—they lingered just beneath the surface, surfacing with a disturbing ease. I thought of Lord Darklyn, and how Aegon had executed him without a flicker of remorse. And now Lucerys... a child lost to the unbridled rage of dragons.

I moved slowly, lighting three candles at the altar. One for Lucerys, for the innocent blood shed, his spirit caught up in the endless storms. One for my unborn child, who lay vulnerable within me, innocent to the dark world they were destined to enter. And one for Aegon, my husband and king.

I knelt there, the hard stone pressing against my knees, and I closed my eyes. My fingers laced together, trembling slightly as I whispered my prayers, hoping the gods could hear me through my guilt and sorrow. "For Lucerys, may the Mother welcome him, may he find peace... May our child be born into a kinder world than this. And for Aegon... may he find the strength to be more than his rage, may he turn from the path of bloodshed."

But the silence of the Sept weighed upon me. The faces of the gods remained fixed, silent, as though they were not moved by my pleas. I looked up, meeting their empty eyes, feeling a gnawing unease. I could almost sense a judgment there, as if they saw every darkness hidden within me. I had once been able to lay myself bare before them, but now… I felt I had to pull my cloak tighter, concealing parts of myself even from the divine.

I stayed there in the silence, feeling the weight of it all settle deep into my bones. When I finally rose, I left feeling no lighter, as if the gods themselves had turned their gaze, leaving me to navigate the growing darkness alone.