[koby's quiet for a moment, because her grief is private, even though he can feel it radiating through her like charting a course through familiar waters -- alicent has been alight with pain like old bruises since he met her.
but: he can feel it. he can feel it and he loves her, and that is enough to prompt that unseen reach, that sense of something warm and adoring and grieving as well, grieving for her pain, if not for aegon, brushing against the old-bruise pain of alicent's mind. it settles there, like a blanket, like an embrace, like a hand on her arm, squeezing lightly.]
no subject
but: he can feel it. he can feel it and he loves her, and that is enough to prompt that unseen reach, that sense of something warm and adoring and grieving as well, grieving for her pain, if not for aegon, brushing against the old-bruise pain of alicent's mind. it settles there, like a blanket, like an embrace, like a hand on her arm, squeezing lightly.]
I'm so, so sorry.