After Vhagar had eaten and drunk her fill, she quietly withdrew to one side and drifted off to sleep.
Aegon was still nestled in Laena's arms as they sat together on a nearby patch of grass. At that moment, the atmosphere between them was all but entirely wrong.
But just as sparks seemed about to fly between the two of them, a familiar voice came from not far behind.
"Did I come at the wrong time?"
At the sound of that voice, Aegon froze in Laena's embrace, his cheek pressed against the sea-blue silk at her waist.
Whether it was because the subtle atmosphere lingering between him and Laena had been interrupted, or for some other inexplicable reason, he found himself blurting out, "No, you came at just the right time."
The moment the words left his mouth, he turned and met Rhaenyra's purple eyes.
His sister-no, his fiancée-stood a short distance away at the edge of the beach, holding a bulging linen bag. The sea breeze had tousled her long silver-gold hair, and the moonlight falling across her profile made her expression perfectly clear.
Her face was so dark that it looked as though a storm might break at any moment.
Aegon snapped back to his senses.
He suddenly realized what he had just said-while nestled in another woman's arms, he had told his fiancée, "You came at just the right time."
No matter how one heard it, that sounded like a provocation. And without even meaning to, he had practically signed his own death warrant.
Yet this time, Rhaenyra did not rush over and grab him by the collar as she usually did. She was not angry-or at least, she did not openly show it in her words or actions.
She simply stood there, looking at the two