Sun and Fire ~ Aemond Targaryen

08. Welcome Dinner

The imposing Red Keep, with its overwhelming magnitude, was a labyrinth of rooms, tunnels, and secret passages known only to a few. Daemma, unaccustomed to high heels, struggled to keep pace with Aemond, who moved with relentless speed. As they left the Throne Room, she found herself trailing behind him without any clear idea of their destination or the reason for their hurried pace.

The heels were beginning to cause her sharp pain and as fatigue set in, Daemma felt she could continue no longer. Finally, on the brink of exasperation, she raised her voice with an irritated tone.

"Where are we going? Are you taking me to the dungeon sector?"

Aemond, without pausing for a moment, responded coldly.

"I'm not taking you anywhere. It's you who's following me on your own accord".

"I'm just trying to pass the time in this dull place before dinner. If I'm bothering you, just let me know" Daemma retorted, visibly frustrated.

When she finally stopped to relieve the pain in her feet, Daemma was surprised to see that Aemond had also come to a halt. With an air of indifference, he spoke to her.

"Actually, I wanted to speak with you privately".

"Isn't that what we are doing?" Daemma murmured as she leaned against the wall and massaged her aching heel. Aemond let out a mocking snort upon seeing her in that position.

"Are you exhausted after just a few steps?" Aemond asked with a note of sarcasm.

"I could walk miles without a problem; it's these damn shoes that are killing me" Daemma replied through gritted teeth as she shoved the uncomfortable black shoe back on.

"Despite being the daughter of a prince, it seems you're not used to aristocratic fashion, country girl" Aemond remarked with a mocking tone.

"Oh, sorry, Mr. Fashion Expert who always seems to wear the same outfit" Daemma shot back, smoothing her skirt with both hands and giving a playful smile.

"I don't wear the same outfit" Aemond retorted in a low voice, but noticing Daemma's irony, his expression grew more serious. "I was heading to a room on the second floor; almost no one goes there... sometimes I go there when I want to be alone".

"As antisocial as one would expect from you" his cousin remarked, her voice devoid of mockery. Then she sighed slightly and added with more enthusiasm "Well, if you want to talk in that room with me, let's go".

Daemma took a step forward to resume walking, but Aemond remained stationary, observing her with his usual stoicism. He stepped a little closer to whisper.

"If you want, you can keep walking barefoot; we still have quite a ways to go".

"Barefoot? Are you crazy?"

"I assure you, you won't find many people in that direction, and your skirt is long enough to cover your feet. What's the problem?"

"And carrying the shoes in my hands" Daemma objected, but Aemond didn't seem interested in continuing the debate. He turned to resume his walk, saying one last time:

"Do as you see fit".

Daemma squinted, debating whether she should turn back at that moment. However, she soon realized that returning was not a sensible option; she had walked too much during the day, and turning back would only worsen her discomfort. Reluctantly, she looked around and noted that there didn't seem to be anyone in the corridors. All the servants must have been busy in the main halls, attending to the nobility or performing other tasks.

With resignation, Daemma placed her shoes against the wall and began walking, trying to conceal them partially under the length of her skirt. Indeed, the fabric was long enough to cover her feet as well. Noticing that she could no longer keep the same pace, Aemond slowed down, discreetly watching for any signs of nearby presence.