As Aegon waited for Aemma outside the Throne Room, he took the chance to truly take in what had happened. He reached and ran his fingers over his lips, his face flushing as he remembered the way her lips moved against his, the way she grabbed at him like her life was on the line.
When Aemma arrived, his heart stopped; she was beautiful, even more beautiful than when he saw her moments ago. Her face was blank, her eyes full of sadness. Aegon wished he was a warrior then, so that he could cut through his Kingsguard and take Aemma far away from their families' war.
"You look beautiful." He held his arm out, his heart soaring as he felt her skin on his. Aemma hadn't bothered to cover her hands anymore; she just didn't care.
"I know." Aemma kept her gaze lowered as the doors opened. It was a small gathering; the only ones present other than the royal family were the small council. Aemma shivered and pulled her thick cloak closer to her.
Alicent watched as Aemma walked in, escorted by Aegon. Her shoulders were hunched, and her eyes held so much sadness it seemed to radiate throughout the room. Aegon looked as if he were in mourning, of what, Alicent did not know.
"You may now remove the bride's cloak." The old septon nodded to Aegon, who unclasped it at the base of Aemma's throat, his cheeks heating up as his fingers brushed against her skin.
Aegon hesitated before leaving Aemma at the makeshift altar, but he knew he could not stop what was going to happen. Aegon stood by Helaena as he watched the woman he loved bind herself to Aemond.
"You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection." The septon nodded at Aemond, who unfurled the black cloak with the red sigil and fastened it. His heart was hammering in his ears as he let his fingers brush against Aemma's neck.
"Your Grace," The septon nodded to Aegon and Helaena. "My lords." He nodded to the small council. "We stand here under the sight of gods and men to witness the union of man and wife; one flesh, one heart, one soul."
Aemma stopped listening after that, instead, she focused on the minuscule particles of dust that floated around the room and the way they reflected in the candlelight.
"Princess?" The septon repeated. Aemond held his hand out, and Aemma took it. The septon bound their hands together with cloth, and Aemma lost herself in the small details of the room again. Her eyes found Aegon's for a brief moment before she quickly averted her gaze.
"I am hers and she is mine, from this day until the end of my days." Aemond did not take his eyes off of Aemma as she glanced around the room. He had imagined their wedding so often he didn't know what to expect, but this was not it. It was supposed to be the happiest day of their lives, but now it felt like golden shackles were being locked onto her wrists.
Aemma opened her mouth and paused, glancing at Alicent who nodded encouragingly. Her eyes flickered to Otto, who was staring at her with a look of intrigue.
YOU ARE READING
The Prince and His Flower
FantasyAemma 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...