"Ser Harwin is truly dead?" Aemma asked her new handmaiden, Mya, who nodded her head solemnly.
"Yes, it was a fire at Harrenhal, Your Grace. His father, Lord Lyonel, also died." She said. Aemma placed her hand on her chest as she sat down on her bed. She had seen flames in her dream, and heard the crackling of the fire, and the screams. Had she truly seen Harwin's death without knowing it? Tears clouded Aemma's eyes as she thought back to all of their memories together. Harwin was always around, ready to lend an ear or offer advice. He played with her, and helped train her. She wouldn't be half the girl she is today without him.
"There is other news, Your Grace. Your aunt, Laena Velaryon, passed away in Essos during childbirth. She had demanded that Vhagar burn her." Mya spoke softly, afraid of the Princess's reaction to even more bad news. "Lady Laena Velaryon's funeral will be in two days, held at Driftmark."
"Leave me." She waved Mya away as she let a sob escape from her lips. Aemma crawled onto her bed and curled her knees to her chest as another sob wracked through her. Harwin had been a giant of a man, his name was Breakbones, how could a fire kill a man who was nicknamed Breakbones? And her poor father. Laenor hadn't seen Laena in years, and now she was dead. She had never met Laena, but her father always spoke incredibly highly of her, and Aemma knew she had to have been a good person.
Aemma had cried every single day after her family left her, nearly a week ago. Rhaenyra had sent a raven as soon as they arrived telling her of the castle and the lands that surrounded it; towering mountains and trees. Behind the castle towered the great Dragonmont, an old volcano that still released steam. Jace and Luke enjoyed exploring the castle, but still missed Aemma greatly. Aemma kept the letter underneath her pillow for three days as she awaited the next one. Her response to her mother was full of random things Aemma did throughout the day, as well as Lord Otto, the Queen's father, returning to Kings Landing to resume his position as Hand of The King. She also detailed how Ser Criston had very deliberately allowed her to join her uncles in training as he feared it was not the ladylike thing to do. Queen Alicent had opposed rather strongly at first, but begrudgingly gave Aemma her permission after she had spent the whole day in her company begging.
Aemma continued to cry for what felt like hours, wondering how her heart could break anymore. As Aemond passed by Aemma's chambers, headed to see his mother, he could have sworn he heard crying. He paused in front of her door as he considered knocking, but changed his mind and simply walked in.
Aemma was still in the same position as before with her knees tucked towards her chest, her hands covering her face as she cried.
"Aemma?" Aemond asked. Aemma debated telling Aemond what had happened.
"He's-he's dead!" Aemma wailed.
"Who?" Aemond asked, confused.
"Harwin." Aemma cried even harder as she spoke his name aloud. Alicent had always told Aegon and Aemond in secret that Ser Harwin Strong was their nephew's true father, and Aemond has assumed it to be a rumor as Aemma looked as Targaryen as a Targaryen could and thought her brother's features were by chance those of their great-grandmother who was a Baratheon, but seeing her reaction to his death, it occurred to him that it was true, and she must have known about it. Aemma's a bastard, Aemond thought to himself.
He knew he should have cared, told his mother the truth, and cast her out of Kings Landing, but at the moment all he could focus on was his betrothed who was heartbroken after the loss of her father. Aemond silently crawled into the bed next to Aemma and placed his hand on her shoulder. Aemma sat up, tears still fresh on her face, and turned to Aemond.
"Aemond, I need to tell you something." She sniffled. She knew she shouldn't be telling him, or anyone for that matter, but if they were to be married, she did not want to keep this secret. A part of her hoped he would be disgusted with her and have her sent back to her family. As she opened her mouth, Aemond cut her off.
YOU ARE READING
The Prince and His Flower
FantasyAemma Velaryon was the spitting image of her mother; she had pale silver hair, fair skin, and dazzling blue eyes. She was a Targaryen in all sense but her last name which she bore from her father Laenor Velaryon. She was the younger twin of Lucerys...