253 AC.

Duncan felt a slight guilt as he entered the Princess's chambers, his hands carefully shutting and locking the doors behind him before he heard the sound of water from the bathing chambers connected to her bed chambers. The stone walls felt cool against his back as he paused, listening to the gentle splashing and soft humming coming from the other room.

He should have felt more than just a little guilt, really. He was much older now, his hair had started greying at the temples - not that age had diminished his appearance or strength - yet here he was, in the private chambers of his best friend's young and bright daughter. The scent of her lavender perfume hung in the air, triggering memories of their previous encounters that he knew he should resist.

Duncan would never have indulged in any thoughts he had for the Princess, had she not initiated such a sinful thing moons ago after her twentieth name-day. Now it had become routine for him to come when she called and share her bed. He was still surprised that he was the object of her interest in the first place. The soft glow of candlelight flickered across the tapestries, casting dancing shadows that seemed to mock his better judgment.

As he began to remove his armor slowly, the clink of metal against stone echoed in the quiet room. She'd be annoyed if she emerged to find him still fully armored. She always complained it took too long to get off, scolding him like he was the youth in their relationship and not her. Duncan couldn't help but smile faintly at the thought of her impatience, despite the gravity of their situation.

If Egg - also known as Aegon Targaryen - were to find out about this, Duncan was certain his best friend and once squire would kill him, or at least geld him. He grimaced at the thought, his fingers pausing on the buckle of his breastplate. The sound of his name being called by the Princess suddenly cut through his worries, and he turned toward the bathing chambers, knowing he couldn't resist her summons any longer.