Blood and Steel | Aemond Targaryen

Chapter 6

"I'm gonna kill him."

"Jace it's fine, nothing I couldn't handle." You sighed, leaning back in your chair as you took a sip of wine.

"You just told us that the other night he shoved you into a wall." Jacaerys threw back, pacing across the floors of your chamber, passing by a tired Luke sprawled out on your bed.

"Yes and I handled it." You spoke again, "plus it was quite humorous to see his startled face when I pinned his arm behind his back."

"And he could have told someone! You could have been in serious trouble, and then you'd be sent away or worse." Jace paused, "does my Mother know?"

"I tried telling her Aemond was suspicious of me but she ignored it, saying instead that he probably just fancies me." Running your finger around the lip of your goblet, you stood up. "Which is an absurd thought."

For a moment there was silence, making you look up and across the room at Jace who had stopped his pacing to look at you. "and do you fancy him?"

You could help the loud laugh that escape your throat, your free hand moving to slap over your mouth quickly.

"Have you gone mad? No! He's always lurking around and looking at me. He tried to kill you and your brother for gods sake!"

Jace raised his hands in defeat, "I was just making sure."

"Alright, we'll now that we've cleared that absurdity up, I suggest you and your brother go and get ready for supper. I have to go check in on your mother, make sure she doesn't need my help with anything." You explained, shooing them both towards the door before grabbing your cloak and clipping it around you.

In the last couple of days, the weather had gotten cooler- you could feel autumn approaching. Soon you would have to trade out your summer dresses for your winter ones. You never did like the cold, it made your hands stiff and made your nose run.

As the evening went on and the skies grew darker, you worked quietly as you readied the Princesses chambers for the night. Covers were pulled down, her nightgown was laid out, and a kettle of hot water sat at the ready on the table near the fireplace. The Prince and Princess would return from dinner soon, the least you could do was have everything prepared and be gone by the time they arrived. You finished at a remarkable pace, glancing over your work once more before finally giving yourself the go ahead to leave.

With the door to their chambers sensibly shut, you made your way down the stairs, passing by other handmaiden and servants as you did. Some carried arms of folded linens, and others were continuing their nightly routine of lighting the torches.

Distant chatter echoed down the halls as you turned right at the bottom of the stairs, heading for your own chamber. A swift and cool breeze stayed at your heels as you walked, making you shiver. You'd have to start a fire tonight. The rooms tended to get colder as the nights grew longer.

When you eventually swung open the door to your chambers, you froze in place. A fire was already dancing calmly in the fireplace across the room, sending shadows stretching across the walls and ceiling like long tentacles. But that wasn't what surprised you. No, it was the fact that Aemond Targaryen sat in one of the chairs facing the fire, his back partially turned to you as he stared into the flames, the light tracing his profile perfectly.
In a way he was kind of Pret—