Tales Of The Heart [Aemond Targaryen]

CHAPTER THIRTY

 Either come closer or stay away,

Having you in between is exhausting.

〰

Maesters had confirmed the consummation to the queen while another feast was being thrown in honor of the newlyweds.

As the morning sun began to rise, casting a soft glow over the royal chambers, Aemond found himself unable to sleep. The entire night, he had lain awake, unable to tear his gaze away from the sleeping girl beside him—Maenya, his wife.

Her features were soft and serene in slumber, her breathing steady and peaceful. Aemond couldn't help but admire her, committing every detail to memory—the way her lashes cast shadows on her cheeks, the gentle curve of her lips, the way her hair spread like a halo around her. He felt a strange sense of protectiveness, mixed with something he didn't want to force upon her.

As dawn approached, he knew he had to prepare for the day ahead. Reluctantly, he slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb her. He moved to the adjacent bath chamber to wash and dress, the water cold against his skin as he tried to shake off the remnants of the sleepless night. His mind was still on Maenya, and he found himself eager to return to her side.

However, when he returned to the bedchamber, the bed was empty. The sheets were cool, and there was no sign of Maenya. She had already left for her quarters. Aemond stood there for a moment, a mix of emotions swirling within him. He felt a pang of disappointment.

The feast had been a grand affair, filled with laughter and merriment, but Maenya felt detached from it all. She had played her part, smiled at the right moments, and exchanged polite conversation, but her mind was elsewhere. Now, back in her chamber, she felt the weight of the day settling upon her.

Aiday, her handmaiden, was carefully preparing her for bed, brushing out her long, silver curls with gentle strokes. Maenya sat in silence, her thoughts drifting back to Aemond. They had sat together and eaten together, but they had not spoken since the morning—and nor would they speak tonight.

Maenya had decided to stay in her chambers, choosing the quiet solitude of her own space over sharing their marital bed. Aiday didn't question her further.

"How was Prince Aemond?" Aiday asked, her expression solemn.

Confusion etched on Maenya's face. "You saw him in the hall. Did he look sick to you?"

"I'm not asking about his health. I'm asking about the intimacy," Aiday whispered.

Something flickered in Maenya's eyes for a moment before confusion took over again. "What intimacy?" She mocked Aiday's manner of speech and headed towards her bed.

"I am talking about the consummation, princess." Aiday tried to follow her.

Maenya opened the covers and climbed onto the bed. "I'll say it once: there was no consummation." She grabbed the book from the side table, her words baffling Aiday.

"What do you mean? The maesters confirmed it. There was blood on the sheets, Maenya." Aiday's whisper was almost a yell.

Maenya paused, the book halfway open in her hands. She looked up at Aiday, her eyes narrowing. "The blood was Aemond's idea. 'The maesters can be easily misled,' he said."

Aiday's eyes widened in shock. "But...why would you...?"

Maenya sighed, placing the book down. "We tried, but we couldn't, so we didn't."

Aiday frowned, clearly displeased with how casual Maenya seemed about it.

Before Aiday could further ask anything, a knock on the door interrupted them. Maenya exchanged a glance with her handmaiden, who moved to answer the door. As it swung open, Aemond stepped inside without waiting for an invitation, brushing past Aiday without a second glance.