C U R I O S I T Y | Aemond Targaryen

S I X T Y

Cordelia's P.O.V.

I'm lost. I am sure of it.

This mansion that could be considered a literal castle is too big, too overwhelming for someone not to get lost in it. Wandering down a grand hall with large oil paintings of old men and woman on the walls, I pray to find someone before I get lost in this mansion forever. My gaze sweeps over every painted face on the canvas, noting how none of them are smiling, and I continue moving like I'm searching for a magical door that will take me somewhere familiar.

Maybe in another life, this mansion is a magical castle... And the Targaryen Dynasty is royalty.

The dim lighting casts eerie shadows on the intricate tapestries that line the walls, and I can hear the faint echoes of my footsteps reverberating through the vast space. The paintings, adorned with ornate golden frames, seem to watch my every move with their piercing eyes, as though they know I don't belong here with them. My fingers graze over priceless ornaments on elegant dark-wood tables, the touch probably dropping the trinkets' value to nothing.

With each step, I can feel a strain of uneasiness pressing upon me, whispering for me to not go any further or else I will be forever lost. Though an invisible force pulls me deeper into this maze of a mansion, singing for me to go a little further and find out why the paintings are watching me with those haunting eyes. The silence is deafening, broken only by the occasional creak of the floorboards beneath my feet.

Aemond was right... I will be forever lost if we played hide and seek.

Every corner I turn reveals more hallways, more rooms, each one seemingly identical to the last. Though among the rows of grand doors in the vast halls, there is one that stands out. One that is slightly ajar, revealing a glimpse of what lies beyond, and my feet can't help but carry me to it. With a single, delicate touch, I nudge the door open a bit more, giving me the opportunity to sneak a peek inside.

As the door opens wider and I get a glimpse of what's behind it, a rush of anticipation floods my senses and I forget all about being lost in a terrifying castle-mansion. Behind the door in dawn's light, I find shelves upon shelves of leather-bound books layered with dust. The scent of aged parchment and ink fills the air, mingling with the faint aroma of sandalwood.

This is too creepy... Why is there so much dust inside?

Tiptoeing into the room for no good reason, I see, with the help of light filtering through the dusty windows, a worn wooden desk in the center of the room. Papers are scattered haphazardly, as if left in a hurry, and the least dusty thing in the room. With eyes drifting over every invaluable dirty object in the room, my feet pad towards the desk with unsettled dust while I fiddle with my pinkie finger.

Every turn of my gaze reveals something I did not see before, things that make me all the more curious, as if each object in the room holds tales of an untold past. When stepping right in front of the desk, I run a single finger on the wood; the touch proving how it's the only thing in this room not coated with years of dust. As I frowned at the strange sight, wondering the reason behind this, I pick up a paper, wrinkled and yellow with age.

... In the event of our passing... We name Viserys Targaryen... The legal guardian for our most beloved-

Startled by the flickering light of the lamp, I dropped the paper in my hand and let out a scream I will be embarrassed about later. Twirling around to face the new light in the room, I find Viserys Targaryen standing beside it while leaning on his cane. He appears to be holding back an amused smile, his eyes watching me with laughter, before limping terribly slow to where I stand.

"Oh, gosh. You scared me... I'm so sorry." I gasp on nothing, my eyes darting from him to the mess on the desk. "The door was unlocked and I couldn't help myself."