The Vengeful Ghost

65. Lady of the Vale

If Aemond loved any part of the day the most, it was the end and beginning. It was when he got to lie down with Visenya and wake up by her side. He had to share her during the day, but in those moments, she was his. His to hold, to love, and to make writhe under him time and time again.

He loved her greatly. Yet, he seemed to have uncovered a new means for her to heal. She had become insatiable. He took her when he could, and where he could. When the small council meeting was over on one hot day, he had his way with her on the table. He had her sitting on the edge of it with her skirts pulled up and his cock slamming into her. They were each other's therapy.

She seemed to be improving. There were times she began to cry right after and he held her as she sobbed. He too had bad days. He'd fuck her roughly to process his own emotions, and then after they were finished he'd stand up and swing Blackfyre into the door. Where she cried, he raged. Still, they understood each other.

This carried on for a full moon. The news was slow to travel and the troops were marching, a not-so-fast feat.

"I think maybe we should send more envoys." Lord Tyland spoke.

"What if, unlike my mother, I am the envoy?" Visenya asked. "Let me and Aemond fly to whichever lord still has their pathetic knee bent to Rhaenyra."

"Dalton Greyjoy is still a problem," Lord Tyland said.

"No," Aemond immediately deadpanned.

"Aemond, that was years ago," Visenya rolled her eyes.

"It matters naught to me how long ago it was, I want you nowhere near that filth."

"Brother, didn't you break his arm at your wedding?" Daeron asked.

Aemond let out what sounded like a growl and he closed his eye. "Who else is there?"

"Lady Jeyne Arryn and Lady Sabitha Frey have also bent the knee in Rhaenyra's favor. Maybe you will have luck with your own relation to the Late Aemma Arryn, just as Rhaenyra did. You are both of Arryn descent. The support of the Vale could mean a lot to our war effort. We may have the Stormlands, Reach, and Westerlands, but Rhaenyra has the North, and the Vale. If she were to also gain the Iron Islands, it could be dooming. The North is large and powerful, we would need more than one army to meet them in a fair fight alone. We need to outnumber her just to have a chance." Rhaenys spoke.

"And Rhaenyra did not go to her to ask for her allegiance, she instead sent Baela. Having you appear with Aemond by your side could look more convincing," Maester Munkun said.

"What do you think?" Visenya asked Aemond.

"I think it is a safe option. The Vale has soldiers, and Lady Jeyne is known to hate Daemon after the death of Lady Rhea Royce. I would like to think she would at least agree to meet with us. She is about the age of Rhaenyra, surely she would have an open mind to talk."

Visenya nodded and looked at Rhaenys. "If I am gone for a night or two, would you rule in my stead?"

"Of course. If she offers you a night stay, you should take it. Be friendly, yet stern. Remind her of what happens when someone chooses Rhaenyra over you, but do not appear rash and desperate. I have met Lady Jeyne, she is a calculated woman and reads people quite well. She will watch your every move. She will not respond well if you rush in there with violence and a demanding demeanor."

"Thank you for telling me," Visenya said softly, flexing her fingers under the table. Her nerves were on edge with the whole ordeal, afraid to travel away from Vharra. She hadn't left the castle since her rash decision with the battle at Rook's Rest, and she was terrified by the idea of leaving her for a night.