Tales Of The Heart [Aemond Targaryen]

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

I will love you until we run out of mornings,

then I will love you in the dark.

〰

The atmosphere between us shifted, the unspoken words echoing in the quiet spaces surrounding the dragon skull.

Although her question wasn't challenging, the manner in which she presented it made it difficult for me to summon the courage to reveal that she was the subject of those rumors.

Sensing the weight of the uncharted territories we had just treaded, the conversation shifted gears. "Do you often find yourself lost in the waves of courtly life?" I asked, diverting the focus.

She considered the question carefully. "It's overwhelming, to say the least. Like being swept away by a current you can't quite predict." She paused, fidgeting with her fingers. "Perhaps that's why I choose to stay away."

As she confessed her feelings about the intricacies of courtly life, a subtle vulnerability lingered in the air. The ambiance of the conversation seemed to carry the echoes of unspoken challenges. I pressed further, intrigued by the emotions beneath her words.

"Is it the unpredictability that unnerves you, or something more?" I inquired gently, wanting to unravel the layers of her sentiment.

Her eyes, reflecting a mix of contemplation and hesitation, met mine. "It's not just the unpredictability," she admitted. "It's the expectations, the politics, the constant scrutiny. It's like navigating a maze where the walls keep shifting. You strive to find your way, but the path is elusive."

"You're quite the poet," I remarked, momentarily entranced by her eyes. They were ostensibly blue, yet they held a mysterious depth that seemed to absorb the light around them, casting a shadowy allure.

A soft chuckle escaped her, prompting me to shift my gaze from the captivating depths of her eyes to the warmth of her smile.

Beautiful, I mused, acknowledging the enchantment of the moment.

As the flicker of realization danced across her features, she bid me good night, with a subtle mention of returning to her chambers. The echoes of our poetic exchange reverberated in the air as she departed, leaving behind a sense of intrigue and untold tales within the ancient walls.

I watched her leave the cellar, her silhouette fading into the dimly lit corridors of the Red Keep. The encounter had been unexpected, a deviation from the usual rhythm of courtly affairs.

The weight of my responsibilities as a prince and a dragon rider often veiled the subtleties of personal connections. Yet, there was something about her, an honesty that cut through the layers of political intrigue. I found myself drawn to her quiet strength.

The roar of Meleys echoed through the walls of Red Keep followed by another roar that wasn't as loud as the first one that belonged to Moondancer, the stead of Princess Baela.

Aemond had rarely witnessed the silver princess emerging from her chambers so early. Yet, there she stood, an unexpected figure beside Helaena. Princess was adorned in the regal colors of House Velaryon.

In the flurry of anticipation, her handmaiden hurriedly tended to the stray tendrils of her hair, a visible eagerness to present her in perfect grace for the impending arrival of her grandmother and half-sister.

In the midst of her anxious preparations, her gaze lifted to meet mine, and a delicate, enchanting smile graced her lips. By the gods, if ever there was a portrait of true beauty, it unfolded in that ephemeral moment—a smile that transcended the ordinary and painted the air with a certain enchantment.