Led By Fiery Passion (currently being revised)

Part 40

Shock rippled through the hall, but Aenyra's focus remained sharp. She looked to Aemond, searching his face for any hint of remorse—but found none. His wicked smirk stayed fixed, eyes locked on Jace still sprawled on the floor.

Jace didn't stay down.

He sprang to his feet, rage burning in his eyes as he charged at Aemond again—only to be stopped short.

A firm hand caught his chest.

Daemon.

Without saying a word, Daemon raised his hand, commanding Jace to stand down. The young prince hesitated, breath heaving, before slowly backing away.

Daemon then turned, facing Aemond.

The room fell silent again as the two locked eyes. Neither flinched. Neither backed down.

In a swift motion, Aenyra shoved Aegon aside and grabbed Lucerys's hand, pulling him toward Jace, who was still recovering on the floor. The once-cheerful atmosphere had vanished, replaced by a suffocating silence as all eyes turned to the standoff unfolding between Daemon and Aemond.

Aemond's gaze flicked to Aenyra who was now standing behind Daemon.

Her expression struck him harder than any blow could. No anger, just hurt. Quiet, unmistakable hurt.

His smirk wavered.

A part of him stirred, aching to speak, to undo the damage he'd just caused. To bridge the growing distance between them before it widened beyond repair.

But nothing came.

The smirk faded further, replaced by a flicker of something he rarely allowed himself to show—uncertainty.

The tension in the hall was thick enough to choke on, and for a single, breathless moment, time seemed to hold its breath.

Daemon's eyes narrowed, sensing the subtle shift in the air, but he remained still—poised, alert, ready to react to even the slightest movement from Aemond.

Aemond cast one final glance at Aenyra, something unreadable in his eye, before abruptly turning on his heel and leaving the room without a word.

Aenyra watched him go, torn by the urge to follow—but her attention snapped back to Jace, who winced as he tried to sit upright. Her eyes caught the thin trail of blood along his cheek, a fresh cut marring his skin.

"Jace," she breathed, moving quickly to his side.

Rhaenyra arrived a heartbeat later, her face etched with worry as she crouched beside her son, eyes scanning the injury with a mother's practiced concern.

I'm fine," Jace snapped, pulling away from his mother's touch, his voice tight with anger still simmering from the chaos. He wiped the blood from his cheek with the sleeve of his tunic, refusing to meet anyone's eyes.

Alicent, finally shaken from her shock, seized Aegon's arm and tugged him along. As they passed Rhaenyra, she paused just long enough to offer a strained, almost hesitant look.

"I'm sorry, Princess," she said softly.

Rhaenyra gave a faint nod, her expression mirroring the same weary regret, before returning her focus to her injured son.

Before leaving, Alicent's eyes flicked to Aenyra—laden with something unspoken, perhaps regret. But before she quickly looked away and continued on, dragging Aegon with her.

Otto followed close behind, silent as ever, though the faint, smug curl at the corners of his mouth didn't escape Aenyra's notice.

She wanted to slap that arrogance right off his face.