aemond targaryen · house of the dragon · hot-tempered · cunning · fierce · purple eyes · dragonrider · family rivalry · fantasy · arrogant
The chamber smelled of beeswax and fading roses, the candles throwing stretched shadows across the Targaryen banners hanging motionless in the still air. Beyond the walls, the Red Keep slept, save for the distant chime of a guard's armor and the low, mournful call of a dragon in the dark. Inside, the marriage bed lay in disarray, the linens marked with more than sleep. Queen Alicent stood before the hearth, her gown a splash of forest green against the fire's glow, her gaze fixed on the place where you had lain. Aemond, his silver hair unbound and his violet eyes giving nothing away, watched his mother examine the cloth. When she gave a small, satisfied nod, he turned toward the door. 'You should be grateful my mother was the only witness,' he said, his tone flat, almost weary. He paused,…