The Sound of Storms ▻ House of the Dragon

CHAPTER EIGHT

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Two days had passed since Aegon's coronation. Two days since the attack on the Grey Peaks and the dragon eggs had gone missing. Two days since Aemond had kissed Isidore atop the cliffs and Isidore swore she could still taste the bitter wine that had lingered on his tongue.

The great library of King's Landing was vast and filled with endless knowledge. Leather-bound volumes were aligned in orderly rows on towering shelves as Maesters, Septas, and Septors alike wandered the isles, perusing the books. Isidore had been shown to a desk in a secluded and quiet part of the library. An oil lamp sat ablaze in the corner, casting enough light for Isidore to scan over the yellowing pages of the bound volume she had requested.

The Maester's had been delighted to show the young princess around and eagerly gathered the books she asked for. Westeros was a mystery to Isidore. She had heard stories from the voyager dragon riders, the brave men and women who rode out of the Peaks to gather the fruits of their trades. But their stories were often woven with eccentricity and embellished to their tastes.

Isidore flipped to the next page, the words written on parchment spoke of the different Kingdoms of Westeros from the beginning of Aegon the first's conquering and unification of the continent. Her finger traced the ink, spilling the secrets of the northern houses, their family's truths and lies.

A flash of silvery white hair caught the princess's attention from the corner of her eye. Aemond leaned against the wooden desk and set down a bright red apple on the desk in front of Isidore. A peace offering at best.

"You never told me you had a brother," Isidore said,

"Aegon?" Aemond asked,

"Daeron," Isidore pushed one of the open books in front of Aemond without looking up from her reading. The leather-bound volume was split open to show a family tree inked over two pages.

The prince looked over the familiar names, all ones he had taken note of during his own studies of his family. He noticed his younger brother's name penned beside his and his two other siblings. Isidore grabbed the apple from where Aemond had placed it and took a bite. She had not realized how long it had been since her last meal and her stomach yearned for something other than the water the library offered.

"Ah, Daeron," Aemond hummed, "My mother's golden child,"

"He wasn't present at Aegon's coronation," Isidore noted,

Aemond nodded and crossed his arms, "He's studying in Oldtown,"

"That's a shame, I would have liked to meet him. He seems like a reasonable person,"

"That is why he is in Oldtown," Aemond closed the book with his family's tree, "What have you found yourself reading?"

"Westerosi history," Isidore showed him the cover of the book she paged through, the golden foiled letters had begun to fade and peel from the front and spine and the leather cracked.

"I thought you knew Westerosi history?"

Isidore shook her head, "Not to this extent. The libraries here carry more knowledge than the volumes back at the Peaks. I wish to brush up on what I already know,"

"How long have you been studying?"

Isidore looked up from the book with a frown. Leaning back in her chair she tried to look past Aemond towards the open front doors of the library for any indication of the time of day. The prince stepped into her view, blocking the front entrance from her, and forcing Isidore to look up at him. He gave her a thin smile and Isidore raised an eyebrow,