𝟎𝟏𝟏. DISTRACTIONS

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      𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆'𝐒 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 reeked of piss and shit as Aemond returned to the very same brothel he had vowed never to return to, his clammy hands clenching and unclenching at his sides as he debated on if he should raise the knocker or leave it alone.

      The moon was still hanging high in the sky, the stench of the city burning the prince's nose as he stared at the ornate wooden door. This was Aegon's favorite brothel, and despite the fact that Aemond had vowed to never darken the doorstep of this wretched place ever again, he couldn't get it out of his mind.

      Not when he had caught a glimpse of her whilst prowling the city, seeking a distraction, something to ease the pain that consumed him.

      Myrella was a simple girl, not the kind that Aemond usually fancied, however, under low lighting and from a particular angle, Aemond could pretend that she was a certain girl. With her golden hair, dark blue eyes, and slim frame, she resembled her enough to please him.

       It had been over a year since Aemond had last taken Myrella to bed, and that night, he had returned to the Red Keep in shambles, unable to justify his behavior anymore. He was a prince. He was not like Aegon or Aenora. He didn't dally around the city in hopes of finding a little comfort. Well, not as often as his siblings, at least. He was better than them. He was better than his temptations. Or so he thought...

       Just as Aemond was about to turn around and disappear into the crowd, the door was cracked open and a familiar plain face popped into view. Myrella stared at him from the crack in the door, her large blue eyes regarding him carefully. Aemond's gaze slid from her face to her body, which was adorned in a sheer red gown that left nothing to the imagination. Aemond's lips twitched as he stared at the fabric.

       Without a word, he pushed the door open and grabbed Myrella by the arm, pulling her through the brothel and into the very back where the private rooms were. The girl said nothing as she trailed behind the prince, whose heart was hammering in his chest. Red. That was all Aemond saw as he threw the girl into an empty room and slammed the door behind them, his chest rising and falling with ragged breaths.

       Red.

      "My prince," Myrella murmured, her accent softer than it was last time Aemond figured she was from somewhere further south, though he didn't care to know.

       Aemond's eye twitched as he stared at the girl. "I thought I told you to never wear that color," he rasped, his eye roving over her body. The gown was hardly more than a few scraps of fabric belted around her waist. Her breasts and cunt were clearly visible through the mesh, and the longer he looked at her, the harder he became.

       He cursed his weakness as shame reared its ugly head within his chest, filling him head to toe with such a sickening wave of indignity that he almost his composure.

𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉 𝖉𝖞𝖓𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖞, 𝐚. 𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧¹Where stories live. Discover now