Veil of Shadows | Aemond Targaryen

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The next morning, Visenya woke with a splitting headache, the remnants of last night's indulgence. The sunlight streaming through the windows was unforgiving, piercing through her closed eyelids and intensifying her discomfort. She groaned softly, raising a hand to shield her eyes from the brightness. The dull hum of pain in her temples pulsed with every beat of her heart.

She sat up slowly, the movement making her head spin. Her surroundings were familiar yet disorienting in her current state. The events of the previous night played in her mind in disjointed fragments. She recalled the dance, the feeling of Aemond's hands on her waist, and the intensity of his gaze. The way he had looked at her, unwavering and almost protective, had stirred something deep within her.

Visenya rubbed her eyes, trying to clear her vision and her thoughts. She glanced to her side, noting that Aemond was already gone. The empty space beside her felt colder, a stark contrast to the warmth they had shared the night before. She ran her fingers through her hair, wincing slightly at the tangles, and tried to piece together her memories.

The discomfort from the alcohol was a reminder of how much she had let her guard down. She felt a pang of embarrassment. She had been so vulnerable, leaning on Aemond in a way she hadn't allowed herself to in years. The intimacy of last night, the way she had laid her head on his chest and felt his hand gently stroking her hair, was both comforting and unsettling.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed, her bare feet touching the cold floor. She stood up, a bit unsteady, and made her way to the mirror. The reflection staring back at her was a mix of exhaustion and lingering emotion.

She remembered struggling with her dress the night before, how Aemond had silently stepped in to help. His touch had been gentle, almost reverent, as he loosened her gown and untied her corset. She had felt his fingers on her back, a touch that was both strange and familiar, igniting a cascade of mixed emotions she hadn't wanted to acknowledge.

Visenya sighed deeply, the memories of last night flooding back with vivid clarity. She recalled the feeling of relief when Aemond had intervened, taking her away from Aegon's lecherous gaze. The way he had stood by her side, offering a silent strength, had been a stark contrast to the tension and discomfort she had felt with Aegon.

She felt a complex swirl of emotions—gratitude for Aemond's presence, frustration at her own vulnerability, and confusion over the rekindled feelings she had tried so hard to suppress. Despite her best efforts, she couldn't help but feel a lingering attachment to Aemond. Last night had felt like a glimpse into their past, a moment where the burdens of their present reality had momentarily lifted.

As Visenya stood in her chambers, she tried to convince herself that everything was fine, attributing her discomfort to the aftermath of too much wine. The throbbing headache was unpleasant but manageable. She took a deep breath, hoping to steady herself.

But then, a sudden wave of nausea hit her with a force that made her stagger. Her stomach churned violently, and she felt the bile rising in her throat. Clutching her abdomen, she quickly realized that she wouldn't be able to hold it back.

Her vision blurred as she stumbled toward the nearest basin, the room spinning around her. The nausea was overwhelming, a relentless surge that left her gasping for breath. She barely made it to the basin before she was overtaken by the need to vomit. The retching was harsh and painful, each spasm wracking her body as she emptied the contents of her stomach.

When the worst of it was over, she remained bent over the basin, breathing heavily. The sour taste lingered in her mouth, and she felt weak and shaky. She grasped the edge of the basin for support, waiting for the nausea to subside.