Aemma Velaryon was the spitting image of her mother; she had pale silver hair, fair skin, and dazzling blue eyes. She was a Targaryen in all sense but her last name which she bore from her father Laenor Velaryon. She was the younger twin of Lucerys...
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Aemma walked the halls toward the King's chambers in search of her mother. She thought her heart would burst in its chest as she walked.
"Is everything alright?" Ser Erryk asked as they walked. Aemma sighed and nodded.
"Just nervous. Vaemond is here, the petition is tomorrow. I need to speak with my mother. Vaemond is just so... you know, even at my aunt's funeral he still tried to say me and my brothers are bastards?" Aemma scoffed.
"Shall I kill him?" Ser Erryk asked.
"You would not do that." Aemma shook her head.
"I would do anything, for you." Ser Erryk said, and he meant it. He loved the princess like a daughter, it was hard not to when he spent nearly every waking moment with her for years, watching her grow.
"Thank you, Ser Erryk, but no. Sadly, he shall live to see another day." Aemma smiled at the irony. She had seen Vaemond's death, which was to occur the very next day. As Aemma stopped in front of the King's chambers, she debated knocking, and just as she raised her fist, the door opened.
"Aemma?" Rhaenyra asked, shocked. She was holding little Viserys, who wailed.
"Mother!" Aemma pulled her mother close and kissed her cheek, before taking Viserys into her arms. "Hello, there! Did you miss me?" She asked as she bounced him on her hip.
"Your grandsire is..." Rhaenyra's voice trailed off. Aemma smiled sadly and placed a hand on her mother's bump, rubbing it affectionately.
"I know. He has not sat the throne in a long time." Aemma said, nodding to the Faith of the Seven tapestries and decorations strew about.
"Those Hightower cunts rule now." Daemon spat as he appeared behind her mother, holding Aegon.
"They have for years, but the King's health is only giving them more power." Aemma said before quickly pressing a soft kiss into Viserys' head.
"Is he asleep in there?" Aemma asked. Her grandsire spent more time sleeping than awake, and when Aemma sat with him he more often thought she was her grandmother, Aemma Arryn, than herself. It had stung the first few times, but if it brought her grandsire any comfort, she would pretend to be anyone.
"Yes, he was in a great deal of pain." Rhaenyra frowned. She knew her father's health had been worsening, but this was worse than anything she could have imagined.
"He asks for you, both of you, all the time. Sometimes he thinks I'm you, and he thinks Aemond is Daemon." Aemma said.
Rhaenyra stayed silent and bowed her head. She wished she had come back sooner to see her father, who became so frail and weak. He did not have much time left, anyone could see it.
"It's alright, Mother. Were you shown your chambers yet?" Aemma asked softly, trying to distract her mother from the sad sight just on the other side of the door.
