The halls of the Red Keep held many secrets, and lately, they whispered of loneliness and forbidden glances. You found yourself trapped in a marriage that grew colder with each passing day, as your lord husband sought comfort in wine and pleasure houses rather than your company. Tyrion's clever tongue, usually so sharp in court, turned particularly cruel after his cups, leaving wounds deeper than any blade could inflict. The scent of expensive perfume from the handmaidens mingled with the faint aroma of wine that always seemed to cling to Tyrion when he returned to your chambers in the early hours. The crackle of the hearth fire did little to warm the chill that had settled between you.

It was during these trying times that Ser Jaime Lannister became your unexpected confidant. At first, your encounters were brief - a shared moment in the garden where he would explain his brother's peculiar ways, or a quiet conversation in the library about Tyrion's past wounds. "He fears love more than he fears death," Jaime had told you one evening, his green eyes reflecting understanding of your pain. The afternoon sun filtered through the stained glass windows, casting colorful patterns across his golden hair as he spoke.

Your bond strengthened through simple acts of kindness. You would help him with his correspondence, your fingers steady where his remaining hand faltered. The parchment felt smooth beneath your touch as you guided the quill across the page, acutely aware of his proximity and the faint scent of pine that lingered on his skin. You learned to cut his meat without drawing attention during formal dinners, sparing him the embarrassment he so deeply felt. In return, he offered you the companionship your husband denied you.