The Hidden Princess° Aemond Targaryen

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I try to capture every minute, the feeling in it
Slipping through my fingers
Each time I think I'm close to knowing
She keeps on growing
Slipping through my fingers all the time

Upon the darkness casting a shadow over Rhaella's sleeping body, she jolted awake and shook at the thought of being held captive. As she brought a hand to her warm forehead, the young maiden sighed with relief. However, the relief she once felt soon vanished as the silhouette of a tall, slim man with long pale white hair stepped from the shadows.

"We meet again, Princess Rhaella," the man grinned.

The young princess grabbed the sheets and wrapped herself in them. "Where have you taken me!" She hissed, glaring at the man.

Prince Aemond rolled his eye and chuckled. "Settle down, princess. You have nothing to fear."

She narrowed her gaze at the towering figure. "It is not my safety I worry about, I only wish for the safety of my second mother, Akira. You may do what you desire with me, but I pray to the Seven Gods of the Seas that you relieve my loved ones of the burden."

Prince Aemond's lips twitched into a smirk. "How can you be certain that we know of your second mother, or her affiliations with your secrecy? Hmm, have you provided unasked information without hesitation?" He giggled, "I like you already."

"Is it not obvious, sir? You shall use my love for the woman who raised me against my will to cause easier submission. Am I wrong?"

His eye drifted across the ceiling of the room. "You are more intelligent than you appear, Rhaella."

"I would rather you not speak my name, sir..."

With a dry laugh, Prince Aemond directed his gaze onto Rhaella. "Sir? I am Prince Aemond of the Seven Seas."

Rhaella's eyes lit up as the pieces slowly fell into place. First, the urgency of fleeing her home—a tower she had only known, then migrating to a small cottage with an unknown woman who her mother had called a servant, and the odd request of protecting her identity. She came to realize that the strange man with an even more peculiar eye patch and pale white hair was not calling her a princess as a cruel nickname or with bitter irony....

"Who am I to you?" Rhaella asked, furrowing her somewhat thick eyebrows.

The man straightened up. "Princess Rhaella Targaryen, the firstborn and only daughter of my half-sister Princess Rhaenyra," he smirked, "and my betrothed."

She gulped at the thought of being a princess and the horrible lies she believed to be true. "Betrothed? B-But I do not know you! I haven't your name, and we spoke on two occasions!"

"Well, believe it or not, that is more than most can say about their betrothed lovers. I suppose," Prince Aemond scowled, "you are no exception."

The young princess sighed with a solemn expression. "Should I be held to a loveless marriage, I will do so with a smile on my face so long as you shall guarantee the protection and safety of those I love. Is that understood?"

Prince Aemond, once again, laughed at the young princess's absurdity. "You are in no position to make demands, child."

Rhaella smirked. "While I understand that, you and your people will not have my undivided interest nor cooperation with this arranged marriage unless done so on my behalf."

"Then it shall be," he gruffly declared. The man swung open the door of the room and marched into the hallway, never shutting the cracked door.

In a state of shock, Rhaella continued to stare longingly at the room's opened door facing a narrow hallway. For a moment, she considered the opportunity she had—run away and die trying, or do nothing at all then cry herself to sleep. The latter was utmost pathetic, she grabbed her cloak that lay folded over a stool and draped it over herself. With a deep breath, she built up the courage to leave the room, looking at everything that surrounded her.

As she furthered down the hallway, the shuffling footsteps of what Rhaella thought to be the strange man from before caught her attention. In a single move, she fled to a nearby room and carefully locked herself inside.

Upon turning to face the inside of whichever room she found herself in, Rhaella was left in astonishment at the furnishing. A spiral marble staircase led to a second-story floor, one that was barricaded by large white pillars at every corner of the area. The young princess admired the hundreds, if not thousands of books on shelves scattered across the room.

Rhaella grabbed the hem of her skirt and lifted it high enough to walk comfortably up the staircase, with each step, she felt her heart melt as the detailed pillars sparkled beneath the lanterns hung above the edge of the railing.

Walking across the second floor, she skimmed her fingers across each title of the books carefully lined upon the shelves.

The young maiden softly sang to herself a lullaby her mother taught her in Valyrian. Her voice was smooth and delicate, like a rose petal. "Nyke sylugon naejot capture tolvie minute, se feeling isse ziry, slipping rȳ ñuha fingers mirre se jēda, gaomagon nyke really ūndegon skoros's isse zirȳla mind? Each jēda nyke pendagon iksan close naejot knowing, ziry keeps va mazverdāre, slipping rȳ ñuha fingers mirre se jēda.

I try to capture every minute. The feeling in it, slipping through my fingers all the time. Do I really see what's in her mind? Each time I think I'm close to knowing, she keeps on growing, slipping through my fingers all the time.

Then, a voice echoed throughout the book-filled room. "Hmm, I figured I might find you here, princess."

The abrupt voice startled the young princess, causing her to lose her balance and fall from the secondary level. She shrieked with the expectation of feeling her body become limp or ache with pain upon slamming into the hard flooring. Instead, the princess opened her eyes and found two strong arms caught her before she could fall.

As she slowly fluttered her eyes open, Rhaella came face-to-face with the stranger she had met earlier in the day. "How did you find me?"

Prince Aemond smirked. "You are quite predictable, princess."

"And you are quite invasive, Prince Aemond. How did you break in? I locked the door, had I not?" Rhaella questioned.

Smirking, he licked his lips. "I have my ways, princess." He paused, "however, I am not here to engage in conversation. The Queen, my mother, requests our presence in the Great Hall."

Rhaella could not contain her excitement. "I had not met a Queen before, is she as described in the books? Will my mother be there as well?"

The man grew with irritation. "My god, you ask far too many questions."

"You ought to become accustomed to my talkative nature, Prince Aemond. I shall forever speak outwardly and without contempt," Rhaella grinned.

Aemond rolled his eye and held the lower part of Rhaella's back as he worried the princess would wander off again. "Lift your skirt and walk faster, princess."

"I do believe before a man decides to bed a woman, that he—in return, purchase a drink for her first!" Rhaella joked with a giggle.

Despite Aemond resisting the urge to laugh at the young princess's unbecoming nature, he curled his lips and hummed in response. "Perhaps later, princess."

Upon hearing Aemond's words, Rhaella's cheeks unwillingly flushed a beet red, and the dimples of her cheeks deepened as she smiled.

Minutes later, the two arrived at the Great Hall of Red Keep. Though Rhaella gawked in amazement at the beauty of the secretive castle library, the room on which she rested her eyes was beyond breathtaking. With chandelier-like candles propped against the leveled steps of the leading steps to the all-mighty King, who sat on an even more impressive Iron Throne, the young princess held her breath in her throat and admired each detail of the hall.

"Have you ever seen something with such beauty?" She asked Prince Aemond, who gazed back at her and nodded in silence.