"About what Lord Dondarrion said yesterday, you had told him that you would consider his words. Have you?"
"There is no need to consider such words, father," Baelor eventually settles for. "I am a married man; there already is a consort."
Daeron hums under his breath. "You are correct, of course, but there is merit in his words."
"Maekar is my mate. I will not—"
"I'm not asking you to," Daeron interjects. "But it has been ten years. Sooner or later, he will have to return to King's Landing. He cannot hide away in Summerhall for the rest of his life."
Baelor presses his lips together tightly and frowns. "I have made repeated attempts. All of which were rejected, and forcing Maekar has never brought good results."
"You have till this year to fix this mess, Baelor," the King says to him, voice losing the softness of a father and gaining the hardness of a ruler. "After that, I will have to ask you both how you feel about an annulment."