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DAEMERYS laid on her bed, brown hair draped down her shoulders as she stared at the ceiling — debating whether to venture to the library like Aemond had requested. The thought had been nagging her for hours.
She couldn't get Aemond out of her mind. How close her lips were to his. His hand trailing her face. His constant smirk. She hated him for it.
After seeing Helaena and the children, after everything she had to say about her brother, it became clearer to Daemerys that perhaps she didn't really know Aemond.
It was dark now, the day had drifted by quickly. The woman had requested she ate her supper within the comforts of her chambers as she did not feel like glaring at the greens all night.
To her surprise, Ser Criston had been the one to give her supper. He didn't stare at her with disgust, instead he gave her a genuine small smile before placing the tray of food down and leaving without a word — leaving the woman wide eyed and confused.
Aemond had been waiting patiently in the library, flicking through a book but ever so often he would look back towards the door in hopes the woman would appear.
He knew he wouldn't be able to control himself around the young woman any longer, she was like a magnet, constantly being drawn to him — he hated it for the most part but he couldn't seem to let the thought go of what her lips would feel like, what they would taste like. Daemerys was driving him mad.
Daemerys grumbled under her breath, she had sworn that she'd never fall for Aemond, she couldn't — she was supposed to hate him, wasn't she? But it was like every fibre in her body couldn't stop thinking about him. She wanted to deny him, only wed him for the alliance, not for love.
Not many women were able to say they married for love, but when she thought of marrying Aemond, that was all she could think it was — love. But she brushed it off simply because she was young, what did she know of love?
