XLIV

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The longer Aemond waited, the more his anxiety grew. He couldn't understand why Aurora was taking so long, and it felt like an eternity had passed since he had left the Tyrell family.

Finally, he could bare the impatience any longer. He decided to go and look for her himself.

Aemond made his way through the halls of the Keep, his footsteps echoing loudly in the silent corridors as he searched for his wife. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong, and the worry in his gut grew with each passing second.

Finally, he came to Aurora's room and knocked on the door urgently. "Aurora?" He called.

No answer.

"My love, is everything okay?" He called out to her again, pressing his ear to the chamber door in attempt to hear her movements.

There was complete silence from the other side of the door, and Aemond felt a chill run down his spine. His heart began racing as the sense of dread grew stronger. Something was wrong, he was sure of it.

"Aurora, I'm coming in." He called, his voice taking on a sense of urgency. Without waiting for a response, he pushed open the door.

As Aemond stepped into the room, his heart nearly stopped at the sight before him. Aurora was crumpled on the floor, unmoving and unconscious.

"No..." He whispered, rushing to her side. He knelt down beside her and shook her gently, his panicked eyes taking in her pale face and shallow breathing.

He cradled her limp body in his arms, his touch gentle and panicked. He could see the sweat on her forehead and the labored rise and fall of her chest, and his mind raced with fearful thoughts.

"Aurora, my love, wake up." He repeated, shaking her again slightly. "Please, please wake up..."

And that's when he saw the blood.

His eyes flicked down, and his heart skipped a beat as he saw the small stain of blood on her dress. His stomach churned as he quickly lifted the fabric, revealing a small pool of blood between her legs.

"No..." He whispered, the blood draining from his face. "No, no, no, no..."

With trembling hands, he gently felt her stomach, trying to gauge the firmness. He knew what it meant, but he couldn't admit it to himself.

Aemond felt the faintest hint of a hardness beneath the softness of her belly. His breath came in ragged gasps as he realized the full extent of what had happened.

"No, no, no... this cannot be." He gasped, his eyes filling with tears. "Not my child... please, gods, not my child..."

He gathered her limp form in his arms and stood up, his hold on her shaky and trembling. He had to get her to a maester, someone who could help her.

"Stay with me." He whispered through gritted teeth, as if she could hear him. "Please, gods, don't take her from me..."

With urgent strides, Aemond carried Aurora out of her chambers and down the corridor to the maester's quarters. Every step felt like an eternity, his fear for her life gnawing at him with each heartbeat.

Finally, he reached the maester's door and kicked it open, cradling his wife close against his chest. "Maester, please!" He cried out desperately. "Please, help her..."

The maester, Maegon, was an elderly man with a stern face. His eyes widened upon seeing Aemond burst into his quarters, carrying an unconscious Aurora whose dress was smeared with blood.

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