Veil of Shadows | Aemond Targaryen

༺ 23 ༻

It was the hour of the owl, and Visenya lay alone in her bed, the chamber shrouded in darkness and silence. Aemond hadn't returned, and for that, she was grateful. But even in his absence, sleep eluded her. She tossed and turned, the events of the evening replaying relentlessly in her mind.

This was not something new to her; many nights were spent in restless wakefulness, her thoughts a turbulent sea of anger, betrayal, and plotting. The quiet of the night only amplified her inner turmoil. She sighed and sat up in bed, the sheets pooling around her.

She ran a hand through her hair, trying to calm her racing thoughts. The flickering shadows cast by the lone candle on the bedside table danced across the walls, reminding her of the chaos that had become her life.

Her mind returned to the dinner, Aegon's taunting words, and Aemond's failure to defend her. The blood-stained sheets haunted her thoughts, a symbol of her humiliation and the deep-seated animosity she harbored towards the Greens.

Visenya knew she couldn't afford to dwell on her emotions, yet they surged within her like an uncontrollable tide. She needed to be strong, to think clearly, to find a way to turn this situation to her advantage. But the weight of it all bore down on her, making her feel small and powerless.

She rose from the bed, her feet touching the cold stone floor. Pacing the room, she tried to formulate a plan. Her anger was a burning fire, but she needed to channel it into something productive. She needed to find a way to strike back, to show them that she was not to be underestimated or humiliated.

Maybe a stroll would help her. It had soothed her restless mind many times before, the rhythmic pace and the quiet allowing her to think clearly. But here, within the confines of the Red Keep, she wasn't so sure if it was a wise idea. The walls seemed to have eyes and ears everywhere, and every step she took could be monitored or reported back to those she distrusted most.

Still, the need to clear her head was overwhelming. She threw on a cloak over her nightdress, the fabric heavy and comforting. She slipped on her shoes and quietly opened the door, peeking into the dimly lit corridor. The hallway was empty, but she knew the guards were stationed at regular intervals throughout the keep.

Visenya found it odd that no one was stationed guarding her door. Ser Emory wasn't there as he normally would be, and the halls were surprisingly empty, adding to her growing sense of unease. She moved quietly, her soft footsteps echoing in the silence of the vast corridors.

She moved cautiously, her footsteps soft against the stone floor. As she walked, the chill of the night air seeped through her cloak, but she welcomed it. It was a stark contrast to the stifling atmosphere of her chambers, filled with memories and recent tensions.

Visenya navigated the corridors, avoiding the main passages and keeping to the shadows. The palace was a labyrinth, but she knew it well enough from her childhood visits to avoid the more heavily guarded areas. She paused at an intersection, listening for any signs of movement before continuing her path.

Her mind wandered as she walked. The cool air helped to clear her thoughts, allowing her to think more rationally about her situation. She couldn't change what had happened tonight, but she could plan for the future. She needed to find a way to strengthen her position, to protect herself from further humiliation and to gather allies who would support her cause.

The faint sound of voices reached her ears, and she quickly ducked into a nearby alcove, pressing herself against the cold stone wall. She held her breath, waiting as two guards passed by, their conversation a low murmur that she couldn't quite make out. When they were gone, she resumed her walk, her heart pounding a little faster.