42 AC

He needed a son, he needed an heir, but it seemed like all his wives had a problem. In his mind, the problem wasn't him. In a desperate attempt to get an heir, he had married three women. One even got pregnant, but a monstrosity was born, which he did not hesitate to execute. Frustration and desperation consumed him. No matter his efforts, sleeping with his wives almost every night, viable pregnancy remained elusive.

His cruel gaze fell on his young niece. She was already of age, healthy and clean - a strange creature, but useful, unlike his brother Aenys. He hadn't learned from past mistakes. Before long, he claimed the poor woman, her protests meaningless against the king's word.

Yet she wasn't what he expected. He anticipated weakness and pathos, like her father, but instead found a sharp tongue he barely restrained himself from ripping out. Her aggressive responses and agitated behavior earned her the least attention of all his wives. He'd pass by her chambers, casting glances that promised retribution, but every interaction exploded into fights ending with verbal lashings and physical violence.

Somehow she'd survived their first confrontation when she'd raised her voice against him. He kept her alive because he knew he'd eventually claim her, even as every smart reply made him want to strangle the defiance from her. That night, his patience finally reached its limit.

Negative thoughts swirled through his mind as he paced his chambers. Failure to produce an heir haunted him. He had a kingdom to rule and needed a strong successor. The impossible task fueled his growing frustration. Suddenly, he thought of her - the only wife he hadn't bedded yet. His last hope.

Rising abruptly, he left his quarters and strode toward her room, determination hardening his features with each step.