𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐄 ~ aemond targaryen (discontinued)

3 ~ The Cruel ~ 3

There was no greater irony than a girl of red hair and the muddy heritage of a commoner, learning of her so-called ascendant, Aegon the Conqueror.

The bond I shared with Helios, my bone-white dragon, whose eyes mirrored tides of the narrow sea, was proof of that heritage I apparently hailed from. Yet even so, as our teacher Merryn, spun the tale, it felt like a distant fairy tale of kings and gods and not so much of my own greater grandfather. It was distant and foreign, and I was all too bland and trivial to call the tale my own, to associate it with my own existence.

The tale bored neither of us however, both Aemond and I taking an astute interest in history.

Helaena had chosen to take up her afternoon embroidering insects, just as she did most days. I knew it brought her busy mind some peace.

Aegon, for the third time this week, hadn't shown up. Shocker.

Aemond, for the third time this hour, had desperately tried to get my attention, kicking my ankle gently with his shoe.

I didn't spare him a reaction, choosing to pointedly ignore him after his behaviour yesterday. My brother may enjoy holding a grudge, but I clung to them like life depended on it.

"Aegon had few friends." I thought of my older brother and withheld a snicker. "Orys Baratheon being the only friend he was known to have, some believing the man may have been the conquerors bastard, half-brother."

My jaw tensed as Aemond turned to me, only digging himself a deeper hole, tending the kindling to my currently short fuse.

Again, I ignored him, refusing to meet his stare.

Aemond huffed, throwing his head back in frustration, sliding down in his chair.

"Is there an issue, my Prince?" Merryn asked.

Aemond stared at the ceiling whilst shaking his head, "I don't know. Ask Khaelyra. She seems to have an issue."

I straightened in my seat as the teacher shifted his attention to me, "Khaelyra?" He raised a bushy, grey brow.

"I don't have any issues. You can continue, Merryn."

"Liar," Aemond puffed out.

But I didn't rise to it. I had known the princeling long enough to become aware of his methods. He was merely trying to provoke me, and I would make sure he failed.

I had decided I would finally speak to him once he realised his mistake. He wasn't a mind reader, but how could I know he was sorry if I he didn't know what he was sorry for?

The sentiment of facing the opinions of others with indifference seemed to fly out the window the moment it came to Aemond. His opinions were what I took the most serious and his display of them yesterday irked me terribly.

Perhaps my issue was simply within myself and my own lack of confidence rather than him, but I wouldn't give in so easily. He had been childish, taking delight in the harassment of our nephews and we both knew why they faced these trials.

Had the places been switched, and I was a dark-haired child of Rhaenyra, would he treat me the same?

Snickering at my mistreatment, teasing me once he was reminded of my existence?

There was once a time when our differences were prominent, but we never brawled over the physical kind, only nagging at each other as typical siblings would. The theft of a toy, fighting over a specific chair at the dining table, bickering over favourite colours or who was taller. He had never seen me for a bastard but suddenly this didn't apply to our nephews. He saw their hair and decided to make their life hell for it.