The Prince and His Flower

T H I R T Y - T W O

The rest of the celebrations went by as a blur. Aemma wondered if she had gone mad, the way Aemond invaded her thoughts. His lips, his scent, it was all so intense. 

"Princess?" Ser Robin Massey, son of Lord Massey, asked as they danced. 

"Sorry, what was that?" Aemma asked, shaking herself out of her thoughts. 

"I asked if you knew my sister, Elinda. She was your mother's lady-in-waiting." He asked, giving her a small smile. 

"Ah, yes, I have seen her many times. A lovely young lady." Aemma smiled at the knight, her thoughts drifting back to Aemond. 

"May I cut in?" Aegon asked, clapping Ser Robin on the back, who glanced between Aegon and Aemma before nodding and departing with a quiet "Of course." 

Aegon smirked as he drew Aemma close, the stench of alcohol reeking off him. Aemma wrinkled her nose at the offensive odor.

"I see you have overindulged yourself." She said as he stumbled slightly, gripping her hand to steady himself. Aegon simply shook his head. "Your toast proves that."

"I indeed have had too much to drink, but I would not be so rude as to not dance with you on your nameday." Aegon gave Aemma a toothy smile. Aemma rolled her eyes, thinking back to the toast that erupted the room into whispers. 

"You're so kind, uncle." Aemma said, nearly toppling over after Aegon stepped on her foot. "So kind, and so drunk. I think you should retire to your chambers." Aemma waved over Ser Arryk. 

"Yes, Princess?" The knight asked. Ser Erryk watched the interaction from his post, a frown on his face. Erryk loved his brother, but Arryk was more loyal to the Hand than anything.

"Would you kindly escort Aegon to his chambers? I fear he has had too much to drink." Aemma said. Aegon opened his mouth to object, but Aemma gave him a deadly glare. 

"Of course, Princess. Come along, Aegon." Arryk said as he wrapped his arm over Aegon's shoulder, and the pair stumbled away. The feast ended soon after, many of the visitors taking to the alehouses and whorehouses to enjoy the rest of the night. 

Aemma walked the halls quietly as she made her way to the King's quarters. She had not been able to read to him earlier as she promised, and she sought to make up for it. 

"Wait outside, please." Aemma said to Ser Erryk, who dutifully took his post. As Aemma pushed the door open, she wrinkled her nose at the smell of decay that hung over the room. The Maesters constantly burned incense to try and mask the smell, but the two scents simply mixed into an earthy, sickeningly sweet smell. 

"Who's... who's there?" Viserys called out weakly. Aemma walked to her grandsire's bed and drew open the curtains. He lay on his back, his hand curled into a fist and the only sound that came from him was his labored breathing, each breath sounding like it would be his last.

"It's Aemma. I came to read to you." Aemma said, gently placing her hand over his. He managed the weakest of smiles as his eyes opened for a brief moment, so that he may study her face.

"You look... just like... my Aemma." He gasped, slowly pulling his hand from Aemma's and reaching for her face. Aemma bent down so that he may cup her cheek. "So beautiful... so smart." 

Aemma placed her hand on her grandsire's cheek and pressed a light kiss to his forehead, before retrieving a book on the Tales of Florian and Jonquil, similar to the one Jace and Laenor would read to her. Aemma lit a candle, basking the room in an orange glow, and she began to read. 

Viserys seemed calmer as she read, his breath getting quieter and less ragged, his eyes briefly opening at times to gaze upon his beloved granddaughter. She balanced the book on her knees, holding his hand in her left and flipping the pages with her right. When there was an illustration Aemma would flip the book so that Viserys might view upon it as well. 

"You know, Jace and Father would read to me, when I was a girl," Aemma said, pausing her reading. Viserys squeezed her hand as he took another shuddering breath. 

"Oh, Jace... how is... he?" Viserys asked, remembering Jace as he was the last time he saw him, a boy of ten. Aemma smiled and gave her grandsire's hand a light squeeze in return.

"He is very well. Shall I give him your well wishes the next time I visit?" Aemma asked. Viserys swallowed and nodded weakly.

"I... would like that. Would you... read some more?" He asked, his eyes dropping down to the book. "It... makes me... so happy." 

Aemma smiled and nodded as she found her place and began to read again. She read to him until she finished the entire book, and by the time she shut it, Viserys was asleep, his face finally relaxed and free of pain. Aemma gently set the book on the chair and pressed a feather-light kiss to his cheek, before placing his hand on the bed and blowing out the candle.

"Goodnight." Aemma whispered as she shut the curtains to her grandsire's bed and quietly made her way to the door. Aemma rubbed her neck wearily as she sighed.

"Is everything alright?" Ser Erryk asked. Aemma gave him a tired smile as they walked to her chambers. 

"Everything is fine, thank you. It has been a long day, and it is already the hour of the wolf. I am simply tired." Aemma said, rubbing a hand over her face. She was always tired, never getting more than a few hours of sleep if she was lucky, the permanent bags under her eyes the only indication. 

"Would you like milk of the poppy to help settle you?" Erryk asked. Aemma shook her head and smiled. 

"No, I will be just fine without it, thank you. You should rest yourself." Aemma said. She always wondered when Ser Erryk ate and slept.

"I rest when I need to. You should do the same." Ser Erryk said as they reached her chambers, posting himself outside her door. As Aemma pushed open the door, Ser Erryk placed a light hand on her shoulder, urging her to turn around. 

"Princess?" He asked. Aemma turned to look at the knight, a question forming on her lips. Ser Erryk hastily pulled out two items: a rose, carved from wood, its petals detailed so delicately they looked like a strong touch could break them, and a dagger, its handle intricately carved with the three-headed dragon on one side, and a seahorse on the other. 

"A rose, for the Rose of the Realm, and a dagger, so that you may always protect yourself, especially when you sneak out of the castle without me, despite my protests." Erryk chuckled, nervous about whether or not the Princess would appreciate his gift. Aemma smiled and gently took the rose from Ser Erryk, inspecting it. She then took the dagger, inspecting its hilt.

"Did you carve these yourself?" She asked softly. Ser Erryk nodded. "They're beautiful."

Erryk released his breath that he did not realize he had been holding at Aemma's approval. 

"I'm glad you like them." Erryk said, smiling through his helmet. Aemma placed a delicate hand on his shoulder. 

"Truly, thank you." She said, a warm smile on her face. As she turned to enter her chambers, Ser Erryk returned to his post. 

"Happy nameday, Princess." He said as she shut the door. Aemma placed the carving on her table next to the carving of Terrax that Viserys had gifted her years ago and hid the dagger under her mattress. Aemma nearly walked past her wall without a second thought, but she quickly looked back, and noticed that Aemond had put up the portrait he gifted her next to the one Rhaenys gave her. Aemma smiled at the sight, before changing into her nightgown. 

As she lay on her back, staring at the ceiling, she drifted off to sleep, which was tormented and filled with nightmares, as usual.

A\N Okay so the next chapter will be a timejump to Corlys' injuries and the Driftmark succession and then Aemma is going to go back to Dragonstone with her family to help settle them after the whole argument, then you know what happens and the dance is going to start.