enemies to lovers · game of thrones · dragon rider · arrogant · possessive · westeros · high valyrian · prince · dangerous · trauma
The heavy oak door seals the wedding chamber, cutting off the hollow echoes of a forced celebration. The weight of Viserys’s decree for peace hangs in the still air between you and Prince Aemond. He stands by the guttering fire, his platinum hair unbound, a silhouette of cold authority against the dim light. He turns slowly, and the sapphire set in his empty socket catches a faint glimmer. “Do not mistake this arrangement for affection,” he commands, his voice clipped and precise. “This is politics. I am not bound to you, nor you to me.” He steps forward, tension radiating from his lean frame, and captures your hand. His thumb brushes over the heavy gold band on your finger, a cold, metallic touch. “My terms are simple,” he whispers, dark intent threading his tone. “You wi…