𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞 - 𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐃

𝘼 𝙁𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙎𝙚𝙖𝙩.

"It has taken me far too long." She doesn't look at him. "I love you."

He smiles, not a smirk, a real smile with the corners of his lips tugging upwards greatly. Aemond takes her face into his hands, she is now forced to stare upon the skin of his face, one eye travelling its gaze across her face. "Visenya. My dear Visenya." He whispers.

Without a care, she joins their lips in an old and less popular corridor of the Red Keep. 

The prince holds her with such conviction, his arm snaked around her waist, kissing her as if she were oxygen and he was regaining breath after being deprived for so long. "I don't want you to wait for me any longer." She tells him, a silent request, a plea he couldn't deny.

⚔

"Beautiful."

She slips her arms into the sleeves of her dress, hiding her face from his compliment. "Could you lace up the back of my gown?" 

He closes his eyes in serenity at the sound of High Valyrian rolling off her tongue before swinging his legs off the bed to do as she requested. Moving platinum blonde hair to the side over her shoulder, Aemond works at the lace backing of her garment. 

Standing once the dress was nearly tightened, the slightest bit of skin at her nape exposed, he pressed a long kiss to it. Visenya leans back into his touch, the back of her head hitting his bare chest. "I want you to marry me. I want you to marry me today."

Chuckling at his revelation, she sighs. "That's a difficult request, Aemond."

"Father has requested us all to dine together, we shall marry then. To celebrate your inheritance, and our love." 

She turned to face him, hands trailing his shoulders. "And when do you suggest we announce this proposition?"

"At court, today. After you rid King's Landing of Cregan Stark."

The girl cocks her head. "I will," She took in a deep breath. "end our engagement. The decision of whether or not to leave is up to him."

Aemond nods. "My wife, my life." He grins. "Come on, you have places to be."

Pecking Visenya's cheek, he follows by laying a comforting kiss on her forehead.

⚔

The guilt has settled into her bones by the time she reaches his chambers, heartbeat accelerating with each knock that occurred. She swears she hears her father's chuckle echo, the touch of his hand settling on her shoulder to reassure her.

"Visenya, it's so early, darling." 

She smiles somewhat awkwardly. "Sorry for the interruption."

"No need to apologise. What has happened?"

The girl pushes past him and into his room. "The world is a very, very amusing place. But it's also difficult, and confusing." He raises a brow at her words. "You deserve a lady who can fulfill her commitments to the North."

Cregan took a step toward her. "Yes, you."

With teary eyes, Visenya pursed her lips. "No, Cregan. Seven hells." She sniffled. "I can't. I cannot prioritise Winterfell over Dragonstone, Driftmark, over my own father's legacy."

"You make little sense." A shadow falls over his eyes, a certain darkness of realisation, he steps back. "This is not about your priorities. This is about him."