The Prince and His Flower

S E V E N T Y - S I X

Aemma stared in the mirror and a girl she did not recognize stared back. Her hair was ink black, just like Harwin's had been. Aemma tried to picture his face, his voice, but she found it was hazy and not quite right. She was forgetting what he looked like.

"I truly look like you now, Harwin," Aemma spoke out to the empty room. She closed her eyes for a few moments, wondering what Harwin would say to her now.

Aemma heard a small knock at the door and assumed it was Olyvar answering her summons. She paused as she heard quiet talking, straining to hear what was being said.

"Aemma!" Aemond's voice was hushed, but he sounded furious. "This is a child. What are you doing?" He stormed into the bathroom, stopping in his tracks when he saw her hair. "You truly are a woman sent by the Gods to stress me into an early grave." His voice was softer now.

Aemma frowned and tucked a lock of black hair behind her ear before turning back to the mirror.

Aemond swallowed; if Luke had been a woman, he would have looked like Aemma. Black hair suited her more than he ever could've expected.

"You look like Luke." He approached her from behind and kissed her cheek, smiling as her face flushed in the mirror.

"I had always wanted to look like my brothers; now I know. It's rather strange, don't you think?" She chewed her lip as she fussed over her hair in the mirror.

"I think you look lovely. Now tell me, what kind of joke are you trying to play on me?" Aemond frowned.

"What joke? Olyvar is more than capable." Aemma shrugged. Aemond grabbed her arm and dragged her out to the room where Olyvar stood. He was obviously uncomfortable in the Princess's chambers, but he did not vocalize it.

"How old are you, boy?" Aemond asked him.

"T-thirteen, my Prince." Olyvar bowed his head.

"Thirteen, Aemma. He is four years younger than you, how is he expected to keep you safe?" Aemond clicked his tongue.

"Prince Daeron says I am-" Olyvar began.

"Did I ask you a question?" Aemond asked. "No, so do not speak." He did not wait for the boy's answer.

"I'm sorry!" Olyvar instantly averted his gaze to the floor, his small shoulders trembling. Aemond terrified him and Aemma could see it. She narrowed her eyes at Aemond before walking to the small boy in front of her and patting his back.

"There's no need to be so scared, Olyvar." She mumbled.

Olyvar knew what Prince Aemond had done to his own nephew, and that gave him reason enough to be scared of him. But his entire aura was menacing and Olyvar felt smaller than ever.

"I'm sorry." Olyvar didn't know what to say after that so he simply remained silent, his eyes cast to the ground.

Olyvar reminded Aemma of Luke in that moment with his big fearful eyes, and she felt a heavy weight settle on her chest.

"Don't apologize. Sit down." Aemma nodded to the small settee. Olyvar swallowed before sitting, his back rigid as a rod.

"You truly cannot be considering-" Aemond began, but closed his mouth once Aemma glared at him.

"I will consider whatever I like. You told me to choose a knight, I have chosen one." Aemma's face was twisted into a scowl, one Olyvar was very used to seeing.

"Tell me boy, is she always this prickly?" Aemond turned to Olyvar, who looked like he would throw himself out of the window to escape Aemond's heavy gaze. His eye contact felt so intense it could burn a hole through Olyvar's chest. Aemma and Aemond waited expectantly for his answer.

"Erm..." Olyvar scratched at his neck, unsure of whether or not the truth would get him punished. "She is rather funny sometimes."

"I did not ask that, did I?" Aemond quirked an eyebrow. "I asked if she was always so sour."

"Don't answer that!" Aemma interjected. She knew she was often in a sour mood, but Aemond did not need to know that as well.

"Your Prince commands it." Aemond's soft spoken voice was replaced with one hard as lead. He loved watching Aemma's face redden in anger.

"Your Princess, as well as your Commander is commanding you not to speak." Aemma pursed her lips.

"I believe that answers my question." Aemond chuckled. "He is weak, he cannot and will not keep you safe."

"That is not your choice to make." Aemma frowned at her husband before turning to Olyvar. "You will no longer be serving under Daeron; you will be serving me."

"Is he even a knight?" Aemond asked. "He certainly does not look like one."

"Kneel." Aemma retrieved Dragon's Breath and stood over Olyvar. She unsheathed the sword and lightly touched it to his right shoulder, careful not to cut him. "What family are you from?"

"My father is Lord Vyrwel. I am his fifth born son." Olyvar stumbled over his words.

"Very well, Olyvar Vyrwel." Aemma cleared her throat.

"You are not a knight nor a king, I don't believe this is how it works." Aemond frowned.

"In the name of the Warrior I charge you to be brave. In the name of the Father I charge you to be just. In the name of the Mother I charge you to defend the young and innocent. In the name of the Maid I charge you to protect all women." Aemma watched as Olyvar glanced up at her in shock. Aemond wondered how the Gods had given him such a stubborn woman to claim his heart.

"Princess, I don't think I am rea-" He began.

"Olyvar Vyrwel, do you swear before the eyes of gods and men to defend those who cannot defend themselves, to protect all women and children, to obey your captains, your liege lord, and your king, to fight bravely when needed and do such other tasks as are laid upon you, however hard or humble or dangerous they may be?" Aemma asked.

"I do, Princess." Olyvar nodded eagerly.

Aemma moved her sword from his right shoulder to his left. "I now proclaim you a knight of the Seven Kingdoms, in the name of King Aegon II." Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, she thought to herself.

"Are you done with the theatrics?" Aemond asked, tapping his foot impatiently. "You haven't even told him what he is doing."

"Ah, yes." Aemma shook her head at herself and motioned for Olyvar to stand. "I am travelling to Winterfell, and you will accompany me. We are leaving before the sun rises."

"Winterfell? But why?" Olyvar was too taken aback to remember to address the Princess properly, and he realized his grave mistake. "My deepest apologies Princess." He instantly bowed his head.

"Good, she is a princess, and she shall be treated as such." Aemond strode over to the boy and towered over him, his face twisted into a grimace. "Should Princess Aemma, my wife, come into any harm under your protection, just know I will do it ten times over to you."

"Leave him alone." Aemma stepped in front of Olyvar, shielding him from Aemond's view. His gaze instantly softened at his wife, and a small smile was on his lips.

"As my Princess commands." He mockingly bowed to her before leaning to the side and glaring at the boy cowering behind her.

"Aemond." She warned. "We need to leave soon. See to it that the horses are ready and we will check our inventory."

"I am not one of your soldiers, Aemma." Aemond sighed but turned to do as he was commanded. He dreaded the coming hours, knowing he would be returning to Kings Landing without his wife.