The Flames We Bear

Chapter 12 - Visenya

The early morning light filtered into the room, casting a soft glow across the grand bedchamber. My eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, I forgot where I was. Then the weight of it all returned: I was no longer just Visenya Velaryon, but Visenya Targaryen, the wife of Aemond. The very title left a bitter taste in my mouth.

I turned my head, half expecting to find Aemond beside me in the bed, but it was empty. The sheets remained perfectly smooth, untouched on his side. As I lifted myself up on my elbows, I spotted him. He was sitting in a high-backed chair near the window, his long silver hair cascading over one shoulder as he carefully adjusted his eyepatch, making sure it was securely in place before he noticed me stirring.

He moved swiftly, almost silently, his tall form looming over me before I could even gather my thoughts. In his hand was a small blade, and my heart lurched in my chest.

"What are you doing?" I blurted out, my voice a bit higher than I intended as I eyed the knife.

Aemond didn't answer immediately, instead giving me that infuriating smirk of his. His eye, the one that wasn't covered, gleamed with amusement as he leaned closer, his fingers grazing my ankle with surprising delicacy.

"What—" I started again, only to let out a gasp as I felt the quick sting of the blade slicing into my skin.

"Seven hells, Aemond!" I jerked back, glaring at him. My first instinct was to kick him straight in the chest, but I paused, confused by what he was doing.

He held my ankle in place with a firm grip as a few droplets of blood pooled at the shallow cut and fell onto the sheets beneath me. I watched as the blood bloomed like a dark flower against the white linen, staining it in just the right place to confirm what we hadn't done last night.

Aemond released me without a word, wiping the blade on the sheets before tucking it back into his belt. His gaze was unreadable, but his lips quirked upward in a way that made me want to throw something at him.

"What was that for?" I demanded, rubbing the small wound. It wasn't deep, but it stung enough to irritate me.

Aemond stood there, arms crossed over his chest, watching me as if I should've already known. His silence was maddening, as was the smug expression that seemed to be permanently etched on his face.

I opened my mouth to say something—anything—when the door to our chambers opened, and a small group of maids shuffled in, ready to collect the sheets. I instinctively pulled the blanket higher up around me, feeling the sudden weight of their gazes on us, judging, inspecting.

One maid, a sharp-eyed woman with graying hair, moved toward the bed and carefully folded back the corner of the sheet where the blood had soaked in. Her eyes darted from the stain to me and then to Aemond. She shared a quick, knowing glance with another maid, and I could almost see the invisible boxes being ticked off in their minds: the bedding had been done, the marriage consummated, and all was in order.

I shifted uncomfortably, glancing at Aemond, who still hadn't said a word. The maids gathered the sheets and quickly made their exit, leaving me to sit there, staring at the door as it closed behind them.

Only then did I look back at Aemond, who was watching me with an expression that bordered on mockery. He raised an eyebrow as if daring me to question his actions.

"You did that... just for them," I muttered, realization dawning on me. "To make it seem like we... consummated the marriage."

His smirk deepened. "What did you think I was doing, Visenya? Slitting your throat?"

I gave him a look, still rubbing the cut on my ankle. "For a moment there, I wasn't entirely sure," I admitted, though I wasn't entirely joking.

Aemond took a step closer, the intensity in his gaze softening ever so slightly. "It's necessary," he said simply. "For appearances. We both know what's expected of us."

I opened my mouth to retort but stopped short. I couldn't argue with him on that point. We both knew what people would say if there was no blood on those sheets. No whispers could be allowed to tarnish my legitimacy further, and gods know Aemond had a reputation to maintain as well.

But still... I hadn't expected him to be so pragmatic about it. I wasn't sure if I should feel relieved or unsettled that Aemond had gone through the trouble of fabricating proof instead of forcing us into something neither of us wanted.

I blinked at him, more questions than answers swirling in my mind. "You could've warned me, you know," I said dryly, shifting in the bed. "Would it have killed you to explain what you were about to do instead of scaring me half to death?"

Aemond shrugged as if the matter was insignificant. "Where's the fun in that?"

I couldn't help but let out a small, exasperated laugh. Of course, he would find this amusing. Of course, he'd take pleasure in keeping me on edge.

"I hate you," I muttered, though the words lacked the venom they once held.

Aemond tilted his head, his expression softening, though the smugness never truly left his features. "Oh, I doubt that."

I shot him a glare but didn't respond. Instead, I found myself watching him, searching for something beneath that smug facade, something that might hint at his true intentions.

But Aemond remained as unreadable as ever. Just when I thought I might have a glimpse of what went on behind that icy exterior, he would shut it down, turning the moment into a jest or a challenge.

I finally leaned back against the pillows, letting out a long breath. "What happens now?"

Aemond turned his gaze to the window, the sunlight casting a sharp silhouette over his features. "Now, Visenya," he said calmly, "we play the part."

He didn't elaborate further, and I didn't push him. There would be time for questions later. For now, I was content to have survived the night without giving him the satisfaction of seeing me break.

But I knew one thing for certain: this marriage, this alliance, would be a game of endurance, of who could outlast the other. And I was determined not to lose.

I just didn't know what it would cost me.