The Realms Rose | Aemond Targaryen / Daemon Targaryen

XXVII

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When the Queen and the hand got word of the Tyrell's visit to Kings Landing, it was decided that they would host a feast in honour of their new guests.

Aurora wondered whether the Queens kindness was a bribe, to ensure the discretion of her eldest sons behaviour. But she soon rid herself of the thought, overcome with excitement for her families visit.

Daemon, however, had become rather distant, not attempting to seek her out but instead becoming rather attentive to his wife as she prepared for her inevitable labours. She was due any moon now, and Aurora was terrified that once the babe arrived, Daemon would lose interest in her.

She missed him terribly. Unable to shake the ache in her heart that grew every moon he was absent from her, she couldn't understand for the life of her why he had grown so aloof.

She stood before a full length mirror, smoothing down the green floor length gown adorning her petite frame. A look of uncertainty on her face as she critiqued the dress, huffing as she discarded the frock, letting it pool at her feet as her handmaidens busied themselves finding another that might satisfy her.

She had been getting herself ready for the most part of the day, her handmaidens bathing her, styling her hair in intricate curls and applying a generous amount of rouge to her lips and cheeks

"My love, you've dismissed almost every dress in your possession." Aemond smirked as he sat in a wing backed chair at the foot of the bed, watching her quietly.

The way her brows furrowed in frustration and the way her nose crinkled up cutely as she stared herself down in the mirror, his gaze trailed over her form and taking in the way her skin was almost luminous in the light.

This was the fourth dress she had tossed aside since he had entered the room and he was beginning to grow tired of watching his wife throw away each dress, not satisfied by a single one. He thought she looked ravishing in every single one of them.

He stepped closer to her, her handmaidens continuing to lay out dresses on the bed, and gently touched her shoulder in an attempt to calm her down.

"None of them are to my liking." She huffed, an irritated expression on her face, thanking Frida as she handed her another.

He gently moved his hands to her shoulders, feeling the tension in them and he gave them a reassuring squeeze. "You are driving yourself mad, love." He whispered, gently massaging the muscles under his fingers and feeling her gradually relax under his touch.

"There's no need to worry so much." He murmured softly, his chin resting on her shoulder and his fingers continued their ministrations. "You looked wonderful in each of them. You would look beautiful in rags."

Her entire body slowly relaxed under his touch and a content sigh escaped her lips as some of the tension left her body. She allowed herself to lean back into his embrace, pressing back against his chest and her eyes fluttering shut for a moment before she opened them again.

His words made a smile tug at her lips and she reached up to rest a hand on top of one of his own as he massage her shoulders. "Rags would look strange...." She mumbled with a soft chuckle. "And wouldn't be very practical."

He hummed in response, his eye closing as he savoured their moment of peace. He inhaled slowly and savoured the scent of her, leaning away slightly to bury his face in the crook of her neck as his hands left her shoulders and instead wrapped around her waist.