The Prince and His Flower

T W E N T Y - S E V E N

Aemma sat up in bed, disappointed to find the sun was just beginning to rise above the horizon, casting a warm glow over her room. She had slept poorly, and not for long. Dreams of her father still haunted her, but last night was different. 

She saw her and Luke, saddled on the back of Arrax, they were flying, trying to escape. Then they fell. 

Aemma held her hand up in the warm sunlight, the orange glow hiding to redness of the puckered, scarred skin. It shook ever so slightly, the tremor improving with time. Aemma swung her legs, shuddering at the cold stone floor. She padded toward her trunk and pulled out Dragon's Breath. She ran her fingers along the blade, careful not to touch the sharp edge. 

Ser Criston had trained her well, and during the weeks she spent at Dragonstone, Daemon would train her as well, alongside her brothers. She was a remarkable swordsman, despite the fact she would more than likely never use these skills in real combat. Aemma carefully returned the sword to its resting place and turned to her wardrobe, looking for her riding leathers.

Aemma debated sneaking out through the passageways, but she thought of all the newcomers to the city due to the wedding, and instead opened her door.

"Good morning, Princess." Ser Erryk said as he stood where he always did, his hand resting on the pommel of his sword. 

"Good morning, Ser Erryk. Would you care to accompany me to the Dragonpit?" Aemma asked.

"I think I do not have a choice." He smiled as they set off toward the gate. "I shall summon a carriage."

"No need, I would prefer to ride there myself." Aemma waved her hand. She hated riding in those stuffy carriages all the time, and she had a feeling Buttons had been feeling rather neglected of late. 

Aemma's feeling had been proved right as her horse turned his head away from her as she approached. Buttons was a rather beautiful horse, a deep black that seemed to drink the sun. 

"I'm sorry, but in all honesty, you do not compare to a dragon." Aemma said as she stroked his face. Buttons let out a dismayed huff as he leaned into her touch. "There, that's a good boy." Aemma gently kissed his nose as she retrieved his saddle. 

Ser Erryk watched the princess, wondering how she could be so delightful yet so fierce at the same time. She was smart and loved greatly by nobles and commonfolk alike. If Ser Erryk's vows did not prevent him from having children, he would have hoped he had a daughter like the princess, and he would gladly give his life to keep her safe. 

"Let us go, Ser Erryk." Aemma said as she mounted Buttons with ease. Ser Erryk mounted his stallion, and off the pair went, riding through the most desolate streets of the city.

Most of Kings Landing was not terrible, it had charm to its old red clay roofs and cobblestone streets. Sometimes in the heat, it radiated a smell Aemma could only compare to sewage, but she enjoyed traveling into the city. The commonfolk were good people, trying to survive. Oftentimes if Aemma were ever recognized, she would gift them something of value, to inspire love in their hearts, and it worked; the commonfolk loved Aemma and had given her the moniker of The Rose of the Realm. Aemma was flattered, and she thought the name was fitting with what others often called her; Flower. 

As the pair neared the Dragonpit, Aemma felt her excitement grow. Terrax had grown almost terrifyingly fast, and some would whisper he came from the egg of Balerion himself. He rivaled Caraxes and Melys in size, and in a few years perhaps he would outgrow even Vermithor, the Bronze Fury. Their bond had grown as well, and Aemma felt him in her heart as he felt her. Every emotion, every want, it was as if they were one.