SEE HOW IT SHINES

V.

Supper is, as Aemond could've predicted, a tedious affair. The two halves of House Targaryen sit in pained silence as they wait for the king to enter the dining chamber, and the only sounds to be heard are the occasional slurp of wine and murmurs between Baela and Rhaena at the opposite end of the table. Even Aegon, who usually cannot tolerate an awkward moment of quiet, makes no effort to end their torture with a bawdy quip.

Aemond studies his mother's pinched expression, her mouth pressed into a thin, angry line, her eyes darting over to Rhaenyra every so often then rolling in frustration. He's not sure he's seen her breathe since his half-sister sat down at the table, the king's empty place between them seemingly suffocating her with its noxious tension. The entire realm knows that the queen and the princess have been at odds since the earliest days of Viserys and Alicent's marriage, and that night on Driftmark made their loathing for one another all the more bitter. But right now, it looks as though Rhaenyra's very presence may be enough to kill Alicent once and for all.

And for perhaps the first time in his life, Aemond feels like he finally understands his mother.

Each time he happens to glance in Viserra's direction by mistake, he feels his heart stop. She's utterly intolerable, sitting there with the same smug confidence as her mother, sipping daintily at her wine and sharing conspiratorial looks with her brothers. His blood burns with loathing, made a hundredfold stronger by their proximity. As a child, he'd always known his mother hated his half-sister, but never quite understood why . Now, it makes perfect sense. Alicent doesn't need a reason to hate the spoiled, self-righteous princess, and neither does he. Beautiful, charming, spirited...and sent to this mortal life for the sole purpose of stirring an almost violent hatred within him—Viserra is truly her mother's daughter, just as Aemond is his mother's son.

Beautiful. He can't deny her that. Only a few feet separate them now, and he can see her much clearer than he could earlier. Slender-necked and graceful in every small motion, her smooth copper skin and shiny star-colored hair make her unearthly eyes stand out like precious gemstones. There's no doubt she's the blood of Old Valyria; he can't imagine anyone else could have such pristine features. But—no , she's not entirely perfect, though the slight imperfections almost amplify her beauty instead of detracting from it: her full-lipped grin is lopsided, creating a dimple on only one cheek, and there's a small smattering of freckles over the bridge of her nose. And, of course, the scar.

His scar, he thinks with a sudden flash of possessive pride, immediately followed by guilt. It was wrong to hurt her then, and it's wrong to look at the mark he left and feel anything but remorse now. Is it wrong, though, to think that the little tendril of raised pink skin that creeps out from the line of her hair makes her face even prettier? That the shape of it could almost be described as a crescent mo—

The doors open with a noisy clatter, blessedly interrupting his thoughts. Aemond shoots to his feet instinctively at the entrance of the king, hobbling along at an agonizingly slow pace between two men of the Kingsguard. He lowers his eye out of respect, grateful to be forced to look away from his niece. As he waits for his father to be helped into his seat, a different sort of anger clouds Aemond's thoughts.

Viserys insisted that his entire family join him for supper tonight, which would have been a miserable enough gathering on the best of days. But after the events in the throne room earlier, the meal carries an even more acute threat of torture. He scoffs to himself, remembering the sight of Vaemond Velaryon's head cleaved in two. Daemon's blade had been quick as a flash of lightning, and infinitely more lethal. It was impressive, if not gruesome, especially in the presence of so many people; but the Rogue Prince has never been one to shy away from brutal displays of his own prowess. Aemond admires him for defending his family, though he'd never admit it to his mother or grandsire. One could never say that Daemon Targaryen isn't willing to do what it takes to secure the name and honor of the dragon. And it was an affront to all of House Targaryen, what Vaemond said earlier; Aemond may not have anything but venom in his heart for his half-sister, but the daughter of a king cannot be insulted so grievously in the king's own hall for the whole of the realm to hear. A tongue, a life...the Sea Snake's brother had to lose something for his outburst.