Sun and Fire ~ Aemond Targaryen

17. The Advertisement

Aemond, as was his habit, kept himself away from his family when they arrived at the Red Keep. He couldn't bear the thought of sharing a room with those he considered his enemies; seeing their faces made him sick. Thus, he spent most of his time locked away in his quarters, immersed in studies, flying Vhagar, and, reluctantly, listening to the advice and warnings from his grandfather and mother.

Over and over, he heard what he needed to keep in mind for the grand dinner where his wedding would be announced: how to behave, how much to smile, the importance of controlling his temper, the necessity of not leaving the ceremony early, and, worst of all... dancing. Aemond detested dancing. Although he did it reasonably well, he had no fondness for it, while Daemma, on the other hand, moved gracefully in that discipline.

Daemma, for her part, was not feeling any better. She was overwhelmed by hearing Queen Alicent repeat the same instructions a thousand times: which chair to use, when the announcement would be made, the importance of dressing appropriately. The queen insisted that she should look very well put together and sit next to Aemond, on the king's right side.

The day had arrived, and if she was already feeling a tide of nerves, she didn't want to think about what the wedding day would be like, or worse yet, the wedding night. A stifled scream escaped Daemma's throat as she imagined it, causing Sarai to jump, startled, making the cup she was holding slip from her hands. The container, filled with remnants of herbal tea, shattered into a thousand pieces on the floor, echoing throughout the room.

Daemma quickly glanced at her young maid, who was watching her with concern.

"Why did you scream like that, my Lady? You scared me so much" Sarai murmured.

"I'm sorry... I was thinking of silly things" Daemma replied, trying to regain her composure. Sarai noticed that her mistress's cheeks were slightly flushed and approached to touch her face with the tip of her index finger. At that moment, Daemma recoiled with a suppressed laugh.

"It's the tea... the tea made me warm, that's why my face is red. Don't think anything strange."

"I wasn't thinking anything in particular, my Lady" Sarai answered softly as she knelt to pick up the pieces of the cup, although a small laugh peeked out from her lips.

Daemma approached the washbasin of her dark wooden vanity, feeling the need to wet her face to dispel the embarrassment that flooded her from her thoughts. A slight discomfort took hold of her before a torrent of curses welled up in her mind. Once she felt ready, she hurried into the great hall, where almost all the nobles and her own family were present.

The bustle was intense: cooks, servants and a crowd of guests filled the castle. Her eyes landed on the kings, her beloved parents, and then on Otto Hightower, who was conversing with the representative of his house, Lord Hobert's eldest son, Ormund Hightower, who was standing next to his wife. She recalled that Meria had mentioned seeing her cousin Daeron in Oldtown and that he had warned that he wouldn't be able to attend the dinner with Lord Hobert. In truth, that didn't interest her.

As she walked, she saw Forrest carrying trays of food for the reception. Their eyes met, and they exchanged silent smiles before he quickly returned to the kitchen.

Throughout the day, Daemma had done nothing but smile, greet countless people, and show courtesy in every conversation. In the distance, she spotted Aemond, who was also chatting with some courtiers. At that moment, she felt her younger sister tugging at her to come outside the hall. Aemond noticed and frowned.

"What are you doing with all those old geezers? The boys are in the other hall" he asked, visibly irritated.

"Meria, you shouldn't do that; I was talking to the nobles" Daemma protested.