The second was confusion. Stone walls. Heavy tapestries. The smell of candle wax and something faintly herbal.

The last thing she remembered was the rocky lowlands of Casterly Rock. The salt spray. The cry of gulls.

None of that was here.

A gash. The wound pulled when she tried to frown.

Husband.

She opened her mouth to speak, to ask who—but the maester was already moving toward the door, his robes sweeping behind him.

The door clicked shut.

Silence. The candles flickered. Somewhere beyond the walls, a horn sounded faintly—distant, like something from another world entirely.

She was alone. And she couldn't remember a single thing about the man she was apparently married to.