After enduring a loveless marriage for many years, the Rogue Prince was believed to be incapable of fathering a child with his Bronze Bitch. However, a miraculous event shatters this notion with the birth of Vhaela Targaryen. Raised in the confines...
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Chapter Thirty-Four: The Kind Words
Vhaela Targaryen
I slump against my chair with my arms heavily crosses against my body. A heavy frown rest against my lips as I stare at my dresser across the room. The memories from two moons ago constantly invade my mind which only causes my mood to sullen.
At the thought of Aemond kissing me my hand moves to touch my lips. I let out a long sigh in remembrance. My eyes then find the various letters from him, and his sister scattered on top of the dresser.
I remove my hand from my lip as my eyes are sullen in thought. Neither one of them had sent a letter since Aemond and I had gotten caught. It was messing up my nerves incredibly. I didn't know why he wouldn't be able to send one.
Could he have possibly gotten in trouble?
Or did he regret the kiss?
My hand clenches at that thought. Surely, he did not think that. I shake my head at myself as I move to get up from my chair. I slowly head over to my dresser and drag my fingers along the top before they stop at the first letter.
It was one from Helaena that was most likely one of the very first ones I had received on Dragonstone. The edges of the paper are curled and slightly torn in some areas from how many times I have read it. A soft smile grows on my lips at the sight of her handwriting.
I had not received a letter from her either. But her letters started to grow less and less ever since the birth of the twins. I understood that she now had other responsibilities and other things to attend to. It just sucked not to hear anything from her.
It was not for a lack of trying though. I had now sent over six letters in the past moon alone to both of them. But still, I got nothing. I let out another sigh as I remove my hold of one of Helaena's letters. I then move to my chamber door and open it.
There I find Tarik standing guard and he turns to look at me. He gives me a soft smile, but I am unable to give one in return. I walk past him and head down toward the hallway in the direction of Maester Gerardys chamber.
I instantly hear the footsteps of Tarik following closely behind me. Ever since the incident he has been guarding me a lot closer than he has before. I did not know if it was out of fear from my father or his personal need to keep a closer eye on me.
Either way, I hated it.
As I walk further and further the sound of other footsteps begins to echo toward me. I look up and find my father heading in my direction at a stern pace. His eyes are hard and firm as his right-hand rests on the hilt of his sword.
When he approaches closer my eyes narrow harshly at him. I was still upset at him for hurting Aemond. There was no need for him to get violent, but I knew that was what my father excelled at. Violence was what he knew best.
