The Blue Princess ☆☽ Aemond Targaryen

CHAPTER SEVEN

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

"The wings of the dragon beat both fast and slow, pulling its rider between the past and the future. What is written cannot be undone, yet the heart remains blind to what it will bear."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

❀ 122 AC ❀

The flickering candlelight cast soft, dancing shadows across Naerys's chamber as Aemond pushed the door open, holding it for her. The door creaked gently as it swung inward, then clicked softly closed behind them, unnaturally loud in the heavy quiet. The air felt thick and dense with unspoken tension—their duties weighed on them, unyielding reminders of the futures they couldn't escape. Aemond's guilt lingered like a dark cloud, heavy and oppressive, while Naerys's worry threaded through the silence, wrapping around them both like an unwelcome shroud.

Naerys drifted toward the window, her fingertips lightly grazing the cool, rough stone wall, seeking grounding in its chill. She gazed out at the night sky, where stars shimmered faintly, like distant diamonds scattered across a velvet canvas. The crisp night air, scented with damp earth and blooming night flowers, filled her lungs, but it did little to ease the knot of fear twisting in her stomach at the thought of their approaching marriage, just a year away. The prospect of such a commitment felt overwhelming, an avalanche of uncertainty crashing down upon her. She couldn't shake the feeling of being too young, too unready for the responsibilities and expectations that loomed before her like an imposing shadow.

Yet the thought of marriage, though daunting, felt a little less overwhelming knowing it would be Aemond by her side, her beloved brother. His familiar presence eased her fears, calming the rush of doubts swirling in her mind like leaves caught in a whirlwind. He was her constant, her anchor in a life of shifting sands, and knowing it would be him made the prospect of marriage feel a little less daunting.

Memories of their shared moments washed over her like a gentle tide, filling her with warmth: afternoons spent wandering the sun-dappled gardens, where he would help her collect vibrant flowers, their sweet scents mingling with the earthy aroma of the soil; his quiet laughter ringing in her ears, intertwining with the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze; serene evenings in her chambers, where he would read to her, his voice a soothing melody that wrapped around her like a warm blanket until her eyelids grew heavy and sleep claimed her; the gentle way he listened intently to her thoughts, no matter how small they seemed, his unwavering gaze reassuring her that her words mattered. He had always cared for her, guarding her even when she didn't know she needed it, wrapping her in a cocoon of safety and warmth.

The tension that had lingered between them all day felt less pronounced now, though still present—like a soft whisper in the back of her mind. A small worry tugged at her heart. Why had he been so distant throughout the day? Although she felt soothed by his presence now, unease curled in her thoughts. Perhaps he knew about their betrothal and had been disappointed. The notion sent a chill through her, icy tendrils creeping up her spine. What if he resented her for the fate thrust upon them?

Her stomach twisted with apprehension, shadows of doubt weaving into the relief she felt. Was he upset about the prospect of marrying her? The question hung heavily in the air, gnawing at her, as if the very foundation of their connection was built on a fragile line that could shatter at any moment.

Behind her, Aemond lingered by a small table where Naerys had left an unfinished embroidery—delicate blue birds soaring over a garden of vibrant flowers, their colors a vivid contrast against the soft, creamy linen. The half-completed image mirrored the confusion and uncertainty churning within him, the threads and colors suspended in time, waiting for the next steps to unfold as if reflecting their own stilted journey.