The Blue Princess ☆☽ Aemond Targaryen

CHAPTER FIVE

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

“Even in the shadow of fear, love can be a light—one that warms the heart and promises solace in the darkest of moments.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

❀ 122 AC ❀

Naerys walked briskly through the halls of the Red Keep, her delicate slippers barely whispering against the cold stone floors. The faint scent of burning tallow candles mingled with fresh linens, creating a strangely comforting atmosphere that softened the chill in the air. She wore a pale blue dress that complemented her fair complexion, while her silver hair fell loosely around her shoulders, interwoven with delicate braids that framed her face. Aemond's arm felt warm beneath her small hand, fingers tightening around his sleeve as they moved, radiating a quiet joy that brightened the dim corridors.

In contrast, Aemond's pace was measured, his sharp gaze sweeping their surroundings. He held a well-worn book, its pages slightly frayed at the edges. Though he typically preferred the quiet solitude of the library, Naerys's cheerful chatter captivated him, her laughter weaving through the air like sunlight. For a fleeting moment, he allowed himself to smile, the warmth of her enthusiasm easing the weight of his thoughts.

Behind them, Ser Arryk followed at a respectful distance, the clink of his armor echoing through the hushed halls. The stone walls, adorned with intricate tapestries depicting the past glories of House Targaryen, resonated with the soft shuffle of servants moving about their duties—some carrying baskets of fresh linens, while others hurried to light the morning torches.

Naerys looked up at Aemond, her voice soft yet filled with excitement. “I saw a flower in the gardens the other day—it’s called a Camellia. It blooms so beautifully, like layers of soft silk.” Her eyes sparkled as she leaned closer. “I read that in some lands, people believe they bring good luck.”

Aemond’s gaze settled on her, as he listened intently. There was a genuine interest in his eyes, as if nothing else in the world mattered but what she was saying. “I didn’t know that. I don’t think I’ve seen them before. Are they near the pond?”

Naerys beamed, her face lighting up. "Yes, they’re near the—" Her words abruptly halted as her gaze shifted ahead, catching sight of a familiar figure. Rhaenyra was walking slowly, cradling her newborn, the soft blankets swaddling the baby close to her chest. Laenor walked beside her, his posture rigid, a faint discomfort etched into his face despite his supportive arm. The air around them was thick with tension, though Naerys, oblivious to the unease, focused entirely on the baby, her eyes wide with delight.

She quickly turned to Aemond, her excitement uncontainable. “I didn’t know the baby was born already!” she exclaimed, her voice hushed but brimming with joy, a hint of surprise lingering in her tone. She hadn’t expected to see her half-sister with the newborn so soon. Aemond gave her a small, soft smile, though the babe itself did little to stir any feeling in him. Still, Naerys’s joy was enough to acknowledge it.

With a silent, almost absent chuckle, Aemond watched as Naerys released his arm and hurried over to Rhaenyra, her excitement palpable in the way her feet barely touched the ground. "Nyra!" she called out, her voice bright and warm, reaching out toward her half-sister with genuine affection.

Aemond followed more slowly, his steps measured and his expression cautious. He cast a brief, indifferent glance toward the bundle in Rhaenyra's arms, his mind wandering to a more cynical thought. Would this child share the same plain features as his other nephews? He kept his musings to himself, his face betraying none of the curiosity or doubt that lingered in his mind. Instead, he observed Rhaenyra closely, noticing the exhaustion etched in her features but saying nothing.