Aegon finished wiping her face and handed the towel to Rhaenyra.
"Here." His tone was casual, as though nothing had happened.
Rhaenyra took the towel and scrubbed her face a few times, wiping away the remaining tear tracks along with the dust.
She tossed the towel back onto the rack and turned toward the wardrobe. After two steps, she stopped and glanced back at Aegon.
"Turn around," she said, her voice a little tight.
Aegon tilted his head and muttered, "Tch. It's not like I haven't seen it before. What's there to look at?"
Rhaenyra's face flushed crimson at once. She strode back over and rapped him sharply on the head with her knuckles.
Thonk. The sound was crisp and clear.
Aegon clutched his head, grimacing, but dared not say another word. He obediently turned his back to the wardrobe and listened to the rustle of changing clothes behind him.
Rhaenyra opened the wardrobe and began searching.
There was no salvaging the filthy clothes she had been wearing-her cloak had been left in the secret passage, and the outer garments beneath it had been smoked, soaked with tears, and smeared all over with dust from the walls.
But after changing into her own nightclothes, she rummaged for ages without finding a single piece of clothing belonging to Aegon.
She distinctly remembered folding his clothes and putting them in the third drawer a few days ago. Yet the drawer was empty.
Oh, right. Two days ago, she had felt that the little fellow had "betrayed" her and made her angry. In a fit of temper, she had secretly thrown all his clothes out of her room.
He had only been visiting her at night these past few days, spending his days in his own room, so he had never noticed.
Her