[ alicent accepts the bottle, fingertips brushing his before she sets it aside, atop the the table. carefully, she wipes her hands on her skirts and pulls a chair nearly flush to his own. her gaze shines red through the pink of her mask, though her tears have now dried. ]

I shall drink the whole of it. [ a promise, albeit one she will uphold later. ]

First — you have been very brave today, dear Koby.

[ hushed as she sits and swiftly leans forward, one hand tipping up his chin so she might better regard him. his tears are a weakness she has never been able to stomach in her own sons. to look upon his glistening eyes and see her pain reflected — it has repulsed her before. perhaps it is koby’s kindness that keeps the familiar nausea at bay. perhaps it is the knowledge that even her sons should not have had to be strong, learned from others in this place.

gentle fingers tidy his hair from his face, particularly where tears have stuck it to his pale skin and red mask. ]

Braver than you should ever have to be. [ he should be with the maesters, learning the secrets of this world, forging new links in a chain that may never end for one so clever, so bright. ] I know it does not feel like it, and perhaps it is more painful to hear me say such a thing, when others have suffered for it. I mislike all of this, as I know you do.