Enigmas | Aemond Targaryen

FORTY TWO

WARNING:THIS CHAP CONTAINS ADULT CONTENT. DETAILED SMUT. READ OR SKIP AT YOUR DISCRETION.

I'd rather she be wroth, flaring at me, throwing harsh and snide comments my way, any reaction at all would be better than the unfriendly silence and denial I'd been receiving as of late. The sharp odors of fire pepper and cardamom clung to the air like perfume as platter after platter of a large variety of piquant roasts and stews were brought to the high banquet table, waiting to be attacked like bared, defenseless castles. My stomach murmured at the sight of a delectable meal but I could not maneuver myself to feast, not when Visenya sat mere inches away, speaking merrily with the merchant prince of Lys on the subject of a new trade agreement with her most practiced smile and pretending that I was invisible. The simmering frustration I had felt rearing up like a viper during their ongoing conversation, far from diminishing, was increasing, and finally reached a boiling point as the paunchy Essosi goaded her into taking a bite of a spiced blood sausage that he brought from across the sea.

"Care for a dance, wife?" Without so much as a warning, I snaked an arm around Visenya's waist and hauled her to her feet. The congested dance floor served as the perfect cover for me to whisk her out of the great hall without turning heads and into a long-forgotten little dark chamber at the end of the empty corridor. The metallic click of the iron bar falling into its rightful place and the latch hooking and securing left us in a much welcomed seclusion. "What is the meaning of this?" Visenya's face was the epitome of aloofness as I moved closer to her with quick paced steps. She refused to shrink back like a fearful fawn, standing her ground firmly as I pressed my palms against the wall behind her, barricading her in on either side. "I warn you, Aemond, I haven't the humor to pick up quarrel with you upon some slight occasion that is wholly the poisonous offspring of your imagination."

"No. You are far too occupied acting indifferent to your husband, and in his presence kindly listening to the impertinence of a great waddling sack of suet that leers at you." I pressed forward slightly, fuming as our bodies grew close, almost, but not quite touching. The light and unobtrusive amora she bore rolled over me like a battering wave. "Or are you going to convince me that I dreamed it?"

"That great waddling sack of suet could bring potentially half a million of profit into the royal treasure, how else am I to keep up with the prodigious speed of you and Crispin bankrupting me with ridiculous military spending?" Visenya remarked defensively. "And yes, I shall call you thinking every creature on this green earth leers at me a delirium of imagination because it is. Now do you have something useful to say? Affairs of no small importance are calling me the other way."

Her voice edged onto something recalcitrant, making it lucid that now was not the perfect moment that I had been waiting for to placate her.

"Your burning of the heart tree has attracted unwanted attention from the Faith." I brought up a topic she would be most intrigued by. Visenya raised the barest hint of an eyebrow. "The Andal invaders are responsible for the near extinction of the sacred groves of the First Men and the Children of the Forest in the entire South. Why should they care that I destroyed one with a very valid reason?" That valid reason being she surmised a tree was spying on and conspiring against us.

"When the squirrels are all gone, the foxes start to worry they might be the next. The Faith fear that you might take up foreign beliefs and start to burn down their Seven." I revealed to her truthfully. Visenya mused for a few moments before replying. "Can't say the idea isn't enticing. The Valyrian empire kept a multiplicity of gods so as to keep their subjects divided and lessened the chances of their uniting under the banner of a single faith to overthrow their dragonlords. Why must we pretend to be cordial to the pompous septons and septas while we can weaken their power and influence by introducing their contenders into Westeros?" She paused. "But I see your concern. With war hovering above us like a starving vulture, the realm does not need unnecessary upheavals. I will write to the High Septon himself with undying fidelity to ease their mind."