Blood of Old Valryia (Aemond Targaryen FF)

Chapter Thirty Three

 The King had been carried away, without so much as a passing glance at his children, grandchildren, or Aesira.

The cough was wet and sounded as though there was a rattle inside his chest. Aesira could do nothing but watch as Rhaenyra, Alicent, Daemon, and Lord Otto followed the King on his litter out of the Great Hall. Aemond had disappeared, as had his siblings. When Aesira's cousins gathered in her chambers to celebrate their betrothals, she snuck out in search of Aemond.

Her search had been fruitless. Having spent most of the afternoon inquiring after the elusive man, Aesira thought she might go to the dragonpits to see if he had decided to spend his day with Vhagar.

She had made it all the way to the portcullis when Alis, panting, called to her from the top of the stairs. "A supper has been organized for the King and his family," she said, panting. "I saw the Prince make his way to the private dining room."

Aesira's shoulders slumped. "He was here?"

"It would seem that way, my lady." Alis placed a hand on her chest, doing her best to calm her breathing. "Come on, they're waiting for you."

Aesira was flighty on the best of days, a fact that everyone who knew her could agree on. Upon her eventual, if late, arrival at her cousins' gathering, no one questioned her on her whereabouts. This, which had always been a boon, only served to isolate her even more today. And as she walked to the supper arm-in-arm with Baela, Aesira realized that the separation between her and her cousins was all her own doing. She had no one to blame for the estrangement but herself.

Baela and Aesira waltzed into the private dining room of the King. A quick glance around the room set the tone for the evening. Lord Otto, Alicent, Rhaenyra, and Daemon were seated on the far side of the ornately bedecked table, in that order, with a chasm of space separating Alicent and Rhaenyra.

Princess Helaena stood at the far end of the table, deep in conversation with Lord Otto, her two brothers standing nearby, engaged in their own discussion. Aemond and Prince Aegon were in a conversation of their own, their heads bent close together as they whispered back and forth. Aemond was a study in mystery, his arms folded across his chest and his jaw clenched tight as if he were concealing some great secret. His fists were balled beneath his arms, and his entire posture was rigid, as though he were bracing himself for some unseen challenge.

In contrast, Prince Aegon seemed sluggish and detached, his movements slow and unsteady. He held a glass of wine in his hand, and it was clear that he was already in the beginning stages of being drunk. Despite his comely appearance, there was something unsettling about the way his eyes looked like those of a dead man, empty and lifeless.

Before Aesira could join her cousins in taking her seat, Lord Otto caught her eye and waved her over. Releasing Baela, Aesira marched across the room towards Lord Otto, the soft strains of music from the minstrels in the background barely registered in her mind. The smell of the food perfuming the air made her stomach growl, but she was too focused on the conversation between Aemond and Prince Aegon to pay it much mind. She felt Aemond's eye on her as she stepped around him, and heard him mutter under his breath, "Even when the noose is tied, they expect us to break bread."

"Ah, Lady Aesira. Do you know anything about dragons and their egg-laying patterns?" Lord Otto asked before she could ask Aemond what he meant, or to whom he was referring. "Dreamfyre has been with our Helaena for some years now, and we haven't seen a single egg."

Distracted, Aesira heard herself answer, "Unfortunately, I do not have any knowledge on the subject, Lord Otto. None of the maesters, including Archmaester Dayzthrax, seem to have a clue. They lay eggs as they see fit; no one has been able to predict it."