The Realms Rose | Aemond Targaryen / Daemon Targaryen

PROLOGUE

The Rains of Castamere - Ramin Djawadi, George R.R Martin, Tina Guo

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In 131 AC Prince Aemond Targaryen and Lady Aurora Tyrell were wed in the tradition of House Targaryen. The two youths made their vows amongst the faith, and were joined in holy union by the High Septon. The marriage had been loveless at first, Aemond calling upon Aurora to perform her wifely duties with little words spoken amongst them.

In truth, Aurora was rather fond of Aemond when her father had betrothed them, fantasising of slow strolls through the gardens, sharing hidden kisses full of tenderness and feverish touches beneath the banquet table.

She had been told many tales of Aemond Targaryen before their initial meeting. How he claimed the mighty Vhagar at the young age of ten. That he was a handsome dragon rider and skilled swordsman. She thought she had struck gold being betrothed to such a wonderous prince, but her happiness soon began to dissipate.

Aemond had become awfully cold after their wedding night, what once seemed to be a relationship that could blossom into a match full of intimacy like promised, had grown stale and distant within a matter of weeks.

Aemond however, intended to perform his duty as his mother wished, and avoid the beautiful Tyrell woman as often as he possibly could. He could never see himself opening his heart to her, she was too perfect.

Her perfection spited him. When she looked up at him with those entrancing doe-like hazel eyes, he felt all of his anxieties relating to his own faults at the very forefront of his mind. She was the most sought after woman of the seven Kingdoms. The Rose of Highgarden. Something most men would be proud to vaunt. But not Aemond.

He heard the whispers of the court, he was very aware of the stark differences between the two of them.

She was eloquent, genteel, loved and perhaps the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. Whereas he was a monster.

Aurora laid dutifully spread on their marital bed. Aemond rocked into his prized Lady with haste, panting and gripping at her jaw with his nimble, slender fingers. He sung sweet praises into her ear, something he only seemed to do when buried inside of her warmth.

"Look at me." He growled at her with dominance. The only time he seemed to have much interest in her was when she was laid bare in front of him like this. Her body practically begging him to give her heirs.

He turned her face forcefully, tears threatening to spill from her eyes at how hard he was pounding into her. "That's it, you take it so well." He cooed.

He lifts his head from her shoulder, lilac eyes piercing into a dismayed stance. The Dornish Knight found himself unable to move, quietly watching him defile her.

Aemond grunted at the final whine that escaped Auroras swollen lips, maintaining condescending eye contact with his Fathers kingsguard.

"What is it, Ser Criston?" Aemond seethed, not removing himself from his wife. "Can you not see that I'm rather busy?"

Aurora jumped in surprise at Ser Cristons presence, a little anxious squeal leaving her lips. She pulled at the white cotton sheet beneath them, pulling it over her bare frame in attempt to hide herself from the knight.

"Your mother wishes to discuss some pressing matters with you, my Prince." He responded unfazed, his dark eyes piercing into Aemonds, never straying once to the naked Aurora scrambling to pull herself together.

Aemond sighed in defeat, pushing himself off of their marital bed and pulling his breeches over his slim legs.

"See to it that her handmaidens bathe her and have her dressed for dinner tonight." Aemond spoke coldly, brushing past Ser Criston towards the door to his chambers.