Nefarious || Aemond Targaryen

24

Aemma wanted to ignore his outburst, she truly did, she wanted to continue eating and enjoying Cregan's company as if nothing had just happened, but she couldn't. All of a sudden, her appetite was gone and the sudden urge to submerge herself into her lavish bedsheets surmised.

What was even worse than her loss of appetite was her sudden urge to excuse herself from the feast and chase after him. It had been a couple of minutes since he had stormed off, and even though she had managed to fake out a couple of smiles and giggles for the public eye, her mind and her heart were screaming for her to run after him.

Pathetic, she thought to herself. She hates him just as much as he hates her, if so, even more. He choked her until she couldn't breathe, so why is she suddenly so affected by her betrothal and why does she suddenly care what he thinks. She spent her entire youth doing things to spite him and to get on his nerves, never caring for what he did or what he thought of her.

"Please excuse me, Cregan, I'm afraid I am not feeling quite well. I hope you don't mind if I retire to my chambers for the evening. I know that this is supposed to be a celebration for our betrothal, but I'm just not feeling swell."

"Oh, princess, is there anything I can do for you? Perhaps I can escort you to your chambers, I can request that a herbal tea be brought to you."

"How sweet of you, but I think that it'd be better if I just sleep it off." she answers, placing her hand over his.

A pang of guilt courses through her about lying to him when he is being nothing but sweet to her, but she can't control her impulses. She has to see him. Discreetly, she gets up from the table and heads out of the Great Hall through the back exit, letting out a sigh of relief when she realizes that nobody had noticed her absence.

Aemma's heart pounds in her chest as she storms through the dimly lit corridors of the Red Keep. Her mind is a whirlwind of emotions - anger, confusion, and a burning desire to confront Aemond about the turmoil he has unknowingly stirred within her. Muttering to herself 'How dare he?' Each step brings her closer to Aemond's chambers, her determination unwavering.

Finally reaching his door, she takes a deep breath, her hand trembling as she raises it to knock. But before her knuckles make contact with the wood, the door swings open, revealing Aemond standing on the other side, surprise etched on his face before turning into the same smirk as always adding even more depth to his already chilled features.

"Already abandoning your betrothed?" he replies snakily.

Inviting herself into his room, he slowly closes the door behind her, making sure that nobody had followed her.

Turning to face Aemond, her eyes narrow with a mix of anger, "What has gotten into you?"

"What has gotten into me? hmm." he scoffs. "What has gotten into you, Aemma? Going off and marrying someone you barely know."

"You act as if I have a choice, uncle, you and I both know that if at the end of the festivities if I hadn't chosen a suitor, the King would have chosen one for me. And besides, I will have plenty of time to get to know him before my ten and eighth name day."

He sighs, silence enveloping them for a few brief moments before deciding to speak up again. "He'll beat you."

"As opposed to all the other men I spoke with? Gods, Aemond, you are being ridiculous." she answered. "And I'll have you know that Cregan is a lovely man."

"He seems lovely now, all men do, after marriage is when they show their true self."

"How can you speak if you don't even know him!" she exclaimed. "He is sweet and kind, charming, chivalrous, he is --"