Luring the Dragon • Aemond Targaryen

Gentle Wounds

'Did it forge a love you might never have found?'

I knew many things were dubious since we arrived in King's Landing, just after one look. I have never interrogated my mother's ambition to establish at Dragonstone, away from the court and all the tension from our presumed family. I don't regret any second I had the chance to grow up in Dragonstone. But we must face a terrible truth: we deliberately isolated ourselves. I cannot help assuming that her judgment was an atrocious political strategy. She was absent in the life of her people, interrupted the correspondence with all her possible allies, and omitted to introduce her children properly to the court. That's why everybody is looking at us like we are intruders. I know they consider we do not deserve our place and don't belong here. I can't overlook how my cousins are cherished by the crowd when they go outside. And perhaps I am not the only one who noticed the disinterested glances from the people and how glacial are the lords and ladies toward my mother. Therefore, the situation compelled us to stay here for a while. Our family must regain attention and sympathy to demonstrate that we deserve to reign one day. But even my mother must admit that she has a lot of effort to make. It is troublesome to convince the population that you can rule since you avoided the duty most of your life, so the people are entitled to question my mother's intentions.

Almost three days have passed since the funeral and since I last saw Aemond. I still didn't know how I should have handled the situation with this dreadful man. I tried to inventory all the domains that could have given me a chance to defeat my uncle since the physical fight won't bring me victory. Until now, the best idea seems to be a battle of witty lines. But I presume that Aemond is much more inventive than he looks. He knew from the first moment that his challenge would be entirely to his advantage. Even if it pains me to admit it, Aemond is a prodigy. Although I haven't had any contact with him in the last few days, I watched him train. I watched him fight for hours against other men much more massive than him, but without losing to any of them. I was fascinated by his agility when he dodged, the precision with which he attacked, and his undeniable confidence. There was no doubt that he was in control in every round. I wondered how many hours of practice he had spent over the years to perfect his movements, how many wounds his maids had bandaged. Was it worth all the effort? Because all this training was not just to improve his fighting skills, it was discipline. He was more of an opponent for Daemon than for me. My mother was right. I must choose my battles carefully, especially when the odds are not in my favor.

Although it is not in my nature, I had to admit my defeat. When I woke up in the morning, an hour before sunrise, I started towards Aemond's room. From what I managed to observe since I arrived here, he started his training with the first rays of the sun. So the moment before daybreak was the only time I could talk to him without being noticed. My mother had made it clear that I had no business being anywhere near any Hightower-related offspring. She would be so disappointed in me if she knew what I was about to do.

It was still far too early, so the activity within the palace had not started yet, which offered me an ideal opportunity to sneak towards Aemond's quarter, where his chamber was. I was somewhat surprised that there were no guards in front of his door, but I suppose it would be beneath his dignity to accept the protection of someone weaker than him. With trembling hands, I knocked on the massive door, slightly nervous because the idea was starting to seem worse and worse. Where the hell was my sense when I chose to come here? When I got no answer after my knock on the door, I decided it was time to leave. Conceivably he was still sleeping or didn't want to talk to anyone at this hour. After all, he's a prince and doesn't have to answer every knock on the door he hears. But just as I was getting ready to turn to my chamber, the subtle creak of the door opening caught me by surprise. In front of me was Aemond wearing only his loose gray pants that hung on his hips. I tried to sustain eye contact, but it was difficult when she showed off his bare chest in the dim light of the torches from the hall. His long silver hair was left loose on his back, and I felt how something inside me started to burn.