Chapter Seven

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CHAPTER SEVEN

Liliyana stopped braiding, unable to hide her giggle.

"You learned how to braid, Aemond?" she asked him.

They stayed up all night, talking and embracing each other on her bed. At one point, Liliyana asked Aemond if she could braid his hair. He looked so handsome, and she needed to fulfill her desire from their wedding night.

Aemond smiled, sitting cross-legged on the floor against her bed while he let her play above him. "Yes. From my sister."

Targaryen men did not braid their hair. Well, some did, if family portraits in the Red Keep were any clue, but they certainly did not do it themselves. "Truly?" Liliyana asked, unable to hide her curiosity. "Why?"

Aemond recalled watching his beloved as a child, playing alone in the grass. She tried braiding her doll's hair, but failed over and over again. Aemond remembered hearing about her mother--how the woman did not keep in touch with her daughter. Mothers taught their daughters these things. Liliyana's frustration bothered him but he saw an opportunity. He went to his sister and asked her to teach him. He did not divulge why; he did not want Aegon finding out.

He learned simple plaiting first, then some more complex designs Haelena knew. He had books brought up to his apartment and spent the night learning every braid from every corner of the known world.

Aemond would teach his beloved. Or better yet, braid her hair for her. What a treat that would be! To see her each morning the way her handmaidens did, preparing her for the day. But when the next day came, he could not approach her. Fear spiked in his veins. What if she thought him weak for knowing a woman's trade?

So, he spent the better part of his day observing her struggle while he and his siblings studied. She managed to get it right, and her smile nearly made Aemond faint. A surge of pride enveloped him.

"I wished to teach you," he finally told his wife. "Or braid you myself, if you wished it of me."

Liliyana felt pressure build in her stomach. His considerate nature would be the death of her. "I would love it if you--"

A knock on her door cut her off.

"Enter," she told them.

A gold cloak entered and bowed. "Morning, my prince. My lady." Despite the odd scene before him, he continued. "The queen has requested your presence, Prince Aemond, in the princess's apartment."

Eye still closed and head tilted back, Aemond told the man, "I will be there shortly."

"The matter is urgent."

Liliyana released her hold and grabbed the hair tie beside her. "Thank you, Ser," she told him. The man bowed once more before leaving. Worry pooled in her gut, but she redid her husband's hair in silence. Aemond stood, kissed her, and left her to her thoughts.

Another knock at her door was heard shortly after.

"Enter," Liliyana said, turning the page in her book. She retired to the chairs overlooking the city skyline. She had a perfect view of the Great Sept from her room.

Another gold cloak bowed, different from the one who took Aemond. "My lady," he began. "Your presence is requested in the princess's apartments."

Liliyana changed into a light green dress, simple in design and texture. Bile clawed at her throat as she twisted her long hair into a side ponytail. Something had happened. Was she in trouble? Was Aemond in trouble? Or perhaps her brother...

The Tragedy of Liliyana Lannister  𓆗♡ AEMOND TARGARYEN ♡ 𓆗Where stories live. Discover now