Blood of Old Valryia (Aemond Targaryen FF)

Chapter Thirty Four

The room fell silent as the King was carried out, his ragged coughs echoing through the hall.

Aesira watched as the courtiers froze, their eyes trained on the sickly king being carried away. She could feel the tension in the air, and even Aemond seemed to be holding his breath. It wasn't until Alicent spoke up, urging everyone to continue with the festivities, that the spell was broken.

"Please, sit. The King wouldn't want us to stop on his account," she said, and slowly, the courtiers returned to their seats and the music resumed. Jace and Princess Helaena returned to their awkward dance. Awkward but enjoyable enough that it brought genuine smiles to the face of both dancers.

Prince Aegon reached for the flagon of wine again, and Aesira couldn't help but remark, "Oh, I'm sure you've consumed a sufficient quantity of wine to fill a bathtub."

Prince Aegon's tired eyes snapped to hers, exhaustion etched into his features. He forced a smile and replied, "Not yet, but it remains to be on my list of potential diversions for the evening."

Despite his efforts to appear nonchalant, Aesira could see the weariness in his eyes, a weariness that seemed to weigh down on him like a physical burden.

"I have faith in your ability to conduct yourself with princely dignity, at least for the duration of this evening," she sneered, unable to hide the disgust on her face. She'd be surprised if he had any blood in him at all, or if Arbor Gold wine ran through his veins.

"I am the paragon of decorum at this table," he glanced around them, "unlike some others at this table, who seem to be preoccupied with missing eyes, whispered warnings, petty squabbles over inheritance, and foolishly starting fights they cannot hope to win."

As Aesira rolled her eyes, she noticed Luke snickering, and following his line of sight, she found him laughing at Aemond and the stuffed pig in front of him. Deciding he had been ridiculed enough, Aemond slammed his fist on the table, knocking the apple out of the stuffed pig's mouth, and stood up.

"Final tribute. To the health of my nephews: Jace, Luke, and Joffrey," Aemond said, raising his glass. There was palpable tension in the air as everyone stopped to listen to him. "Each of them handsome, wise, and Strong."

As soon as the insult left his lips, Aesira felt a shift in the atmosphere and then felt a thunderous crack through the very foundations of House Targaryen.

"Aemond," Alicent cautioned her son softly.

Ignoring his mother, Aemond said, "Come, let us drain our cups to these three Strong boys."

"I dare you to say that again," Jace challenged him from his spot before the minstrels, clenching his fists at his sides. Aemond had twice now aimed an insult at Jace and his brothers, and Jace was not willing to tolerate it any longer.

"Why?" Aemond asked as he stepped around Aesira's chair. She tried and failed to grab hold of his tunic, to stop him from slandering Rhaenyra's sons and committing more treason. "It was only a compliment. Do you not think yourself Strong?"

Aemond's words seemed to incite Jace, prompting him to take action. Without hesitation, he stormed across the room and delivered a powerful punch to Aemond's jaw. The impact of the blow caused Aemond's head to snap to the side, setting off a chain of reactions.

"Jace!" Rhaenyra yelled, chastising her oldest son. As soon as Jace punched Aemond, Luke sprang into action. He was clearly determined to defend his brother, but Prince Aegon moved quickly to intercept him. With a strong grip, he forced Luke onto the table, preventing him from getting any closer, in case Aemond decided to fight back.