Tales Of The Heart [Aemond Targaryen]

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

I have become you, and you have become me,
I have become the body, and you the soul,
So from now on, nobody can say,
That I am someone, and you are someone else.
〰

The faint glow of the moon painted my chambers in hues of white and silver, the light pooling on the cold stone floor. I sat by the window, hoping to read the book balanced on my thigh. However, now I didn’t feel like going through the history of Westeros.

The stillness of the moment was a rare gift, one I savored as I watched the city. Then, a knock broke through the peace. Sharp. Urgent. My jaw tightened, irritation bubbling beneath my calm exterior.

“Enter,” I said, not bothering to look away from the window.

The door creaked open, and a knight stepped in, his boots heavy against the stone.

“Prince Aemond,” he began, his voice steady but laden with hesitation.

Ser Arlan’s voice made my head snap towards him, catching the unease etched into his features.

“Ser Arlan?” This was different. This knight has never really acknowledged my presence, let alone speak to me.

“It’s Princess Maenya,” he said, his words tumbling out in a rush. “She… she is nowhere to be found in the castle.”

The air in the room shifted. My fingers tightened on the book, the edges digging into my palm.

“Nowhere to be found?” I echoed, my tone dangerously low.

“She’s not in her chambers, nor the gardens, nor the library,” he explained hurriedly, his eyes darting as if searching for the right words. “I left her to fetch something for her and then—”

“And you let this happen?” I snapped, rising from my seat in a fluid motion.

“My prince, she was in the cellar—”

“You are her sworn sword, Ser Arlan,” I interrupted, my voice sharp enough to cut through steel. I took a step toward him, my one good eye narrowing into a glare. “Your sole duty is to protect her. To be at her side. And yet, here you stand, telling me she has vanished under your watch.”

He bowed his head, shame flickering across his face. “I take full responsibility—”

“She was in the cellar!” his words seeped into my senses as a thought occurred to me.

I cursed under my breath, the realization tightening like a vice around my chest. “You fool, she slipped out of the castle!” I hissed.

Ser Arlan’s face paled, his mouth opening as though to defend himself, but before he could utter another word, a timid knock sounded at the door.

“What now?” I barked, my patience stretched thin.

The door creaked open, and a maid stepped in, her head bowed low. Her hands clutched a folded piece of parchment. “A message, my prince,” she murmured, holding it out with trembling hands.

I snatched the note from her, breaking the seal hastily. The familiar scrawl sent a chill down my spine:

Your princess is safe with me.