✶|𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘌𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘋𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘺|✶ 𝘈𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘯 𝘐𝘐𝘐 𝘛𝘢𝘳𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘺𝘦𝘯

✶𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 36✶

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The ball

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✯Aegon's Pov ✯

Year 133 A.C

Westeros

Red Keep, King's Landing

By the time the fourteenth candidate sat down at the small tea table in the gardens, Aegon had well and truly had enough of the entire affair.

The music drifting from the musicians was beginning to feel more like a curse than a blessing, muffled slightly by the hedges surrounding the conversation area. 

All around the gardens, nobles mingled, families flattered one another, and ministers smiled like their lives depended on it. Maybe they did.

Aegon, however, was stranded in his own personal hell.

Gaemon wasn't allowed to accompany him during this part of the day, which only made things worse. At least his friend would've given him someone to exchange eye-rolls with. 

Now, all he had was lukewarm tea and a parade of over-perfumed girls rehearsing lines their mothers had probably drilled into them.

Most of them were around his age, some older, some younger, but a few, like Princess Alia of Dorne, were far too young, which made the whole ordeal feel even more absurd. 

Almost every girl chose to talk about themselves, nervously filling the silence when Aegon refused to start the conversation. He usually just nodded or made a vague sound to show he was listening, though in truth, he barely was.

If he had to hear one more person explain what a tremendous political benefit their marriage would be for the crown, he might actually scream.

"The Red Keep is even more grand than I imagined." The current candidate from House Redwyne was saying. "My father mentioned that Your Grace enjoys reading. I do too, especially books on history and culture. My maester says I'm probably the best among my peers."

Aegon raised an eyebrow. She was obviously lying, just trying to sound appealing. Still, this time, something in him snapped enough to actually speak.

"Really?..." He said, voice flat. "And what history in particular?"

Her eyes lit up instantly, as if she thought she had just won the grand prize for getting him to say a full sentence. 

"Oh, um.. The history of House Targaryen, of course, Your Grace." She replied, smiling too hard.

Of course. The safest answer possible.

"Then you should be able to tell me how long Maegor the Cruel ruled." He asked, tilting his head slightly.

The girl froze. Her expression turned blank for a split second before panic set in behind her eyes.

"Ah... Well... um-"

"Your Grace." A servant interrupted, stepping politely into view. "Lady Redwyne's time has come to an end."

She swallowed hard, clearly grateful for the rescue. She stood quickly and gave a shaky curtsy, though her face looked dangerously close to tears.