The Blue Princess ☆☽ Aemond Targaryen

CHAPTER TEN

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

"The butterfly and the moth, fragile yet beautiful, bound together by the quiet light of the same night, each seeking the other's warmth in the darkness."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

❀ 122 AC ❀

The quiet peace of the Godswood lingered, the golden rays of the morning sun streaming through the canopy above, casting a soft, honeyed glow on the ground below. The towering trees stood sentinel, their leaves whispering to one another in the breeze, as if sharing ancient secrets with the wind. The air felt still and sacred, the world outside fading into a distant hum.

Naerys, nestled close to Aemond, felt the steady warmth of his arm around her shoulders. Her hand, delicate as ever, rested against his, fingers gently tracing the lines of his palm. Each touch was a quiet reverence, an attempt to hold onto more than just the fleeting moment.

Aemond exhaled softly, a trace of reluctance in the sound. His gaze drifted down to her, brow furrowed, but his eyes remained tender. "We should probably be going soon," he murmured, his voice low. "I have training, and you have lessons with the septa, don't you?"

Naerys sighed, her breath soft, almost reluctant. Her fingers stilled on his hand as she looked toward the towering trees. "Do we have to?" she whispered, the longing in her voice barely audible.

Aemond smiled, the curve of his lips gentle, but there was a glimmer of something teasing in his eyes. "We do, unfortunately," he said lightly, though the warmth in his tone belied his words.

He leaned down and pressed a fleeting kiss to her temple, a touch that carried both affection and a subtle finality. Rising, he extended his hand to her, his voice coaxing. "Come on, then."

Naerys hesitated only a moment before placing her hand in his. He helped her up with ease, and they lingered for a heartbeat, standing close, hands still intertwined.

She looked up at him, her wide, soft eyes searching his face. Aemond's gaze softened, something deeper passing between them. His free hand rose, cradling her face, thumb brushing her cheek. Without a word, he leaned down and kissed her.

The kiss was warm, tender, and unhurried—both consuming and gentle. Naerys's fingers instinctively curled around his shoulder, her touch delicate yet anchoring. The world around them dissolved into nothing, the only thing she felt was the pressure of his lips and the way his hand held her as though she were something precious.

When he pulled away, his lips lingered close for a heartbeat longer, as though reluctant to part. His voice was a low murmur. "We should go."

But before he could step away, Naerys closed the space between them, her lips brushing his with shy determination. Aemond froze for a brief moment, surprised, before his hand slid to her waist, pulling her closer as he returned her kiss. It was soft, brief, but the charge in the air lingered, her boldness quickening his pulse.

As the kiss broke, Aemond rested his forehead against hers, breathing unevenly. A soft chuckle escaped him, and his gaze dropped to her lips. "We really should go."

Finally, he pulled back, though his fingers lingered, reluctant to part. He glanced down, spotting the book they had left on the ground. With a smooth motion, he bent to retrieve it.