Aegon looked across the room, his private solar stood as one of his only spots of solace since the beginning of this forsaken war. The dome overhead letting in the light of the growing moon, and the fire stoked to bask the room in its light. He stared to the other chaise, where his sister sat with her hands on edge. And he stared. The young prince absorbed the features of his sister-wife, the woman he had waited so many years to see married, in the warmth of the fire's flicker. His shoulder was bandaged, and healing well enough that he used the very same arm to reach out to the small table, daring the weight of the carafe of wine. He filled his glass, and topped the one that belonged to her as well. It sat between the two, every now and again lounging in her hand.
Something had changed about her face, though he supposed he had been gone just long enough to miss the details of it. The points of her face seemed higher through the bulge of her cheekbones and the edge of her chin, almost as if they dipped where they might have remained fleshed before - he supposed war did that to one due to the stress. Perhaps, she wasn't eating enough, he thought, musing to the idea of sending for a servant and some plate to sate their evening hunger.
Tyrosh had been a success, much more than Volantis, and restored a semblance of their normalcy to his life. As his shoulder continued to patch the hole placed by the archers of Volantis in their shots of him from the sky, he began to regain his appetite. And his stomach for war, rulings, and dispensing of justice. It had been odd though, his sister so usually tied to his side had been rather absent. "Visenya," He called her name, feeling as though a whole room stood between them instead of a small, body length of skinned rug.
"You.." He started, trying to gather his own thoughts. Aegon pushed the brushed mess of silver-gold locks behind one ear, "You're different in someway, are you eating enough?" He knew the question was like to draw and attitude from her, which in some ways was what he was looking for. He wanted and indication of her, strong in spirit, sitting near him. "It's the cheeks, I think," He continued, wondering how they looked when beside each other. Was he as gaunt as she appeared?