Sunlight fell through the high windows onto Aegon's face, bringing a little warmth.
He opened his eyes. The dome above was sky blue, painted with white clouds and soaring falcons.
He sat up.
Hearing movement, an attendant outside the door asked softly, "Your Highness, may we come in to attend you?"
"Come in."
Several attendants pushed open the door and entered.
The one in front carried a copper basin, steam rising from its hot water; the two behind held folded clothes and hurried to the bedside with their heads bowed.
Through the gap between them, Aegon saw Brienne standing outside the door.
She wore full armor, with a sword hanging at her waist: Lady Forlorn, the Valyrian steel sword he had personally bestowed upon her.
One hand rested on its hilt, her back straight and her gaze fixed ahead, like a statue standing at the door.
Aegon said nothing, allowing the attendants to wash and dress him.
One attendant approached him with the black-and-red clothes and said, his head bowed:
"Your Highness, there was too little time to have clothes tailored to fit you. We found this new black formal robe in the Eyrie. It is cut in the Andal fashion. Would you..."
Aegon waved a hand.
Whether Andal or Targaryen in style, he cared little for such outward things.
Once he united the Seven Kingdoms, he would institute a single code of laws, a single writing system, and a single language.
Westeros had the Common Tongue, but that was far from enough. His sights extended beyond the Seven Kingdoms.
He intended to make Valyrian the future common tongue, laying the groundwork for conquering Essos.
As for a set of clothes, it hardly warranted his attention.
"Put it on," he said.
The attendants bowed respectfully and dressed him.
Their movements