Enigmas | Aemond Targaryen

SEVENTEEN

I had been awake since the earliest daylight. Aemond lay heavily asleep beside me, so I ran my fingers over his warm skin softly, tracings and scrutinizing and marveling at every detail of his serene beauty; his thick lashes that were a mite darker than mine, a small brown mole hidden underneath the lower lash line, his typical Targaryen aquiline nose with a salient curve, pointy chin and cheekbones that cut like a knife, the sapphire gem spurting blue flames under the white sunrays... I stroked a hand over his chest where a few burn scars turned pink-silvery and Aemond mumbled, seizing my wrist and bringing me closer to him. I lay my head upon his deltoid and just listened to his regular, even breath, until there came a loud knock on our door.

"What, what do they want at this hour? Is the second Doom coming or what?" I rarely saw Aemond this childishly sulky so I gave a little good-natured chortle. "No doubt people fear your evil woman of a wife might have sucked you dry and gobbled you up on wedding night, my prince. Now they come searching for bones and debris." After a grunt of frustration, Aemond rubbed the sleep out of his eye and pulled my face up to his and kissed me deeply. "I will go answer the door. Put something on before someone loses their eyes on your naked form."

I quickly searched for a robe to cover myself and settled against the pillows as Aemond put on a fresh pair of trousers and went on his way to the door.

The septon that ministered our wedding ceremony came in first, holding his crystal high in the air, behind him followed the septa that the queen appointed to me, her smile decorous and hands clasping in front of her stomach.

There was an unbearable awkwardness in the air when the septon started reciting some holy words about the union of bodies and souls all the while the septa fetched the bloody white linen and carried it as if it was a sacred object. Aemond became taut looking rather uncomfortable when the septon asked to confirm with him further details about the consummating act. I had to lower my head and stifle a chuckle as I found the whole situation stupidly amusing.

Once the lock clicked shut and we were all alone again, Aemond blurted out. "I can't believe that old man with one foot in his grave deems me half a simpleton who doesn't know how to properly bed my bride. Where does he think the blood come from?" I sniggered while pecking him on the lips. "Pay him no mind, my love. I know you're far from it." I pulled him back in bed with me, and we began kissing and fondling each other passionately.

Then we heard another knock on the door.

"Am I not allowed even a moment to lay with my wife undisturbed?" Aemond grumbled. I gave a shrug and kissed him on both cheeks before jumping out of bed. "Well, I did promise to break fast with your lady mother, and you must make preparations for the royal progress to come, as we leave in days. So better get moving."

"I will see you in a while then." He sighed, tousling his own silvery mane.

As the door opened, my new ladies-in-waiting entered after giving deep curtsies. The tall and willowy one in a long dress of dark blue velvet with high-cut sleeves I recognized was Lady Hazel Harte, her father a loyal bannerman to House Baratheon, and Lady Hazel herself married into House Velaryon, making her a close kinswoman of Princess Rhaenys. The petite and plump girl in a teal gown embroidered with white Myrish laces was Lady Bethany Hightower, a distant cousin of Aemond's. Both of them had lustrous chestnut hair and clear blue eyes, and sweetest manners. We quickly familiarized ourselves on our way to the dressing room, and were jesting and laughing lightly together when I sat by the vanity.

A soft lilac damask gown trimmed with cloth-of-gold was chosen for me by Lady Hazel, so as to bring out the same lilac in my eyes. Lady Bethany picked a pair of rose gold earrings richly decorated with black amethysts, and I could instantly tell this girl knew good jewelry. When they attempted to style my hair, I blushed embarrassingly and told them I would like to wear it loose. Lady Hazel and Lady Bethany looked at each other and burst out giggling. "Your hair is not going to cover all the love bites His Grace left on you, my dear princess. You will need a shawl." So they found a long pale blue silk shawl and wrapped it around my neck.