Veil of Shadows | Aemond Targaryen

༺ 17 ༻

TW SUICIDAL THOUGHTS AND VOMITING

Visenya awoke the next morning with a heavy heart and a body that ached in a way she had never experienced before. Sleep had eluded her throughout the night, and as the dawn's light crept through the curtains, she lay there, her mind replaying the brutal events of the previous night in an endless loop.

She moved her legs slightly, feeling the soreness that radiated through her body. The fear that had gripped her the night before returned with a vengeance as she wondered if he was still lying next to her, ready to claim her once more. Her breath caught in her throat, and she turned her head slowly, dreading what she might see.

But to her immense relief, the space next to her was empty. Aemond had already risen and was no longer in the room. The absence of his presence brought a small measure of solace to her troubled mind.

The relief washed over her in waves, easing some of the tension that had gripped her body. She allowed herself a moment to breathe, to let go of the fear that had consumed her through the night. Despite the reprieve, the memories of his hands on her, his voice in her ear, haunted her every thought.

She lay still for a moment longer, trying to gather her strength. Each small shift in the bed reminded her of the violation she had endured, the way he had taken from her without regard for her pain or her pleas. Her mind was a storm of emotions—anger, fear, sorrow, and a deep, gnawing sense of helplessness.

Slowly, Visenya pushed herself up in the bed, her muscles protesting with each movement. She glanced around the room, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. This was her new reality, stark and unwelcoming. The comfort of her former chambers was gone, replaced by the cold, harsh reality of her new life.

She wrapped the sheets tightly around herself, seeking some semblance of comfort and protection. As she sat on the edge of the bed, her thoughts turned to the uncertain future. Every inch of her being ached, not just from the physical pain, but from the emotional and psychological torment she now faced.

Her mind raced, trying to make sense of the previous night's horrors. She couldn't understand why everything had gone so wrong. Was Aemond truly so enraged by the slap she had given him?

She replayed the moments in her mind, searching for answers. The way his eyes had darkened with fury, the sudden shift from cold words to violent actions—it all seemed like a nightmare she couldn't wake from. Was it her defiance that had triggered his wrath? Had she crossed an unspoken line, challenging his authority in a way he couldn't tolerate?

Visenya's thoughts spiraled as she considered the possibilities. Aemond had always been intense, but she had never expected such brutality from him. She had seen flashes of his temper before, but this was different. This was calculated, deliberate cruelty.

She didn't understand why Aemond had gone to such lengths to protect her from Aegon, only to turn around and inflict the same cruelty upon her.

Her body ached, a physical reminder of Aemond's betrayal. He had seemed almost protective at the feast, pulling Aegon's hand from her thigh and asserting his authority. For a fleeting moment, she had felt a sense of relief, believing that Aemond might be different, that he might offer some semblance of safety in their forced union.

But the night had shattered that illusion. The same man who had stood between her and Aegon's advances had himself become the source of her torment. She couldn't reconcile his actions, couldn't understand how he could so swiftly transform from her protector to her violator.

Visenya's thoughts spiraled as she tried to make sense of Aemond's behavior. Was his protection merely a claim of ownership? Had he been driven by jealousy or a twisted sense of possession rather than genuine concern for her well-being? The idea made her shudder, a cold realization settling in her chest.