『 : ̗̀➛Two parts of a whole, destined to find their second half, and when the sun finally sets on them, the last ember of hope glows in their eyes. ☄. *. ⋆ 』
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Snowflake jumped from her lap and onto the dresser. Aemma watched as the white cat gracefully dodged the vase of flowers, then curiously sniffed at the candle. She has done so before, burning off her whiskers in the process. Even now, years later, her left side still had shorter whiskers than her right, a reminder of her curiosity getting the best of her. As if remembering the memory, the cat hissed into the flame, making it flicker and dance in response.
Aemma chuckled, but Snowflake didn't share her amusement as she jumped off the dresser and hid under the bed.
"Snow," Aemma sighed and got up from the sofa, putting the book away. She had been trying to read again, but as usual, unsuccessfully. She couldn't understand how Tristan could do it. He was always in the library, reading or trying to improve his High Valyrian, when all Aemma could say were a few words, such as dohaeris (serve), sōves (fly), dracarys (dragon fire), and most important of all, kostilus, kepa (please, father)—this one came in handy whenever she wanted something from her father.
She got on her knees and peeked under the bed. From the darkness underneath it, two yellow eyes stared back at her. Unblinking. "Snow," she repeated. "Come out."
"Meow."
The princess sighed again and sat back on her knees. It was hopeless. She knew the cat was not going to come out until dinner, and only then if the meal was to her liking.
There was a knock on the door, and without hesitation, Aemma called, "Come." It was bound to be Tristan or her mother; who else would bother her so early after breakfast? Although it could be the maids. As her mother would say, people in Essos have no sense of time. She looked over her shoulder, not bothering to stand up from the floor.
"Princess."
It was Ursula. Aemma knew she took care of her older brother Rhaegon and that she once, years ago, helped Alyssa. Her mother would say it was a honorable and mention-worthy thing to do, but Aemma never paid much mind to it. To her, what was in the past was in the past, and now it was now. Now Ursula stood in her chambers, which was weird; Ursula never stood in her chambers. Then why was she standing there now?
"Prince Rhaegon has requested your presence." The way the line was delivered was without any excitement or urgency, which struck Aemma as odd. It was not impolite, but it wasn't warm either. There was bitterness on her face—the kind of bitterness Aemma would see on Tristan's face whenever her father would praise her in front of him.
Although Aemma couldn't read, she was still a bright girl. She could read emotions well. One learns so over time, she sometimes thought to herself. One has to.
