𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟓

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"PRINCESS DAENYS?"

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"PRINCESS DAENYS?"

Ser Ivar's voice echoed from the other side of the door, causing her to jolt in surprise. She stared at her reflection in the mirror and sighed softly.

"What is it, Ser Ivar?"

Her red curls were loose at last. She wore a slightly transparent nightgown with a plunging neckline that was far too suggestive and indecent for a Princess of the Crown, but she didn't expect to be disturbed by anyone for the rest of the evening.

"Your brother wishes to speak with you, Princess," Ser Ivar elaborated, sounding almost enraged. "Should I let him in? The hour is quite late."

Daenys rolled her eyes. "Which brother?"

"Your favorite."

The intensity of Aemond's tone sent shivers throughout her body. Daenys tucked away her hairbrush in the drawer and scrambled to her feet, sauntering in the direction of the door. The only source of light in her bedchambers came from the dying candles, which made the atmosphere even more inviting. Her brother had never seen her in such attire and the possibility of arousing him filled her with curiosity and excitement.

Daenys opened the door and cleared her throat. "What is it that you need from me, brother?"

"Company," Aemond retorted, shrugging lightly. His eye glided over her curves at a leisurely pace as though he needed to memorize every inch of her, every detail. "A conversation, mayhap."

She felt utterly vulnerable under his gaze. "Ser Ivar is correct. The hour is quite late."

"Is it? I barely noticed."

"It really is."

Aemond didn't spare the knight a glance. "Hmm, well, I am certain that your Sworn Protector can keep a secret. Is that not right, Ser Ivar?"

Ser Ivar gnawed on the inside of his cheek to keep from swearing at the Prince, but his expression unveiled his thoughts on the matter. "Of course. Anything for the Princess Daenys."

Aemond scoffed mockingly. "Did you hear that? Anything for you, sister."

Daenys gritted her teeth in mild annoyance. "Alright. Just come inside already."

Aemond lifted his hands in feigned surrender and stepped forward, allowing her to slam the door with a loud thud. "You are in a sour mood."

"Why would I not be?" she demanded, folding her arms in front of her chest. "Tonight's supper was horrendous. Aegon has said too much."

𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐒𝐈𝐒 | Aemond TargaryenWhere stories live. Discover now