elisabeth

Alicent had made peace with her situation long ago. Why ever should she not? She was the Queen Mother, wife of King Viserys II and mother of three wonderful children. Whatever she might have felt for Rhaenyra – she refused to call her Princess, as she presented herself in the usurper’s role as of late – was long gone, buried deep inside her. Shame prevented her from trying to find a new paramour, so she had settled in nicely with Ser Criston Cole playing as a second father to her little ones.

Her life had been calm, if not boring. She spent her day listening in on the Council meetings, embroidering and trying to nurture a positive environment for her children, especially for sweet Helaena, whose thoughts seemed to be far away from everyone. Alicent knew she needed a new Lady-in-Waiting; one that could try to bring her daughter out of her shell whilst enduring her love for insects.

Alicent had heard about you from Ser Criston’s sister, who had mentioned your name to her. She was in need of an experienced Lady-in-Waiting for her daughter Helaena and, knowing that you were recently widowed, she sent an invitation for you to come to Skyhold.

You arrived at the castle with mixed feelings, uncertain of what would await you there. But your worries were quickly put to rest. Queen Alicent welcomed you with open arms and expressed her gratitude for your presence; it was clear that she wanted nothing more than the best for her daughter.

The woman before you looked completely different than the one who had commanded you to her presence yesterday. She had closely scrutinized you, even having placed a spider on your arm to observe your behavior, which you had gently cupped in your hand and released outside the window. A pleasant expression adorned her fair features and a discernible glint shone from her eyes. Evidently she had heard wonderful things about you, and she ached for them all to be accurate. When you queried her what she wanted from you, and if there was anything you could do to aid her, she towered upright and confidently stated "Nothing more than what I already see."

Alicent was taken aback. She was not used to feeling such a strong physical attraction towards someone so young, especially someone who could never marry into court. But here she was, feeling something for you she had only ever felt before for Rhaenyra.

It scared her, and yet she also couldn't help but be drawn to you in a way that both excited and terrified her. She wanted to know more about you and learn more about your thoughts and desires.

So Alicent decided to take a chance on you. She invited you to her chambers every evening after dinner, where the two of you would sit together and simply talk about life – yours, hers, the kingdom's – anything that came up in conversation. As time went on, the Queen Mother found herself opening up more and more to you, divulging secrets she had kept hidden for years before finally giving way to laughter and joy as if nothing else mattered in this world or the next.

In the weeks and months that followed, Alicent started to eagerly anticipate your time together. She was mesmerized by the stories you told of your experiences and outlook on life; they were so different from those around the castle. Your arms almost touched as you sat close together, and she found herself captivated by how you carried yourself with such grace and poise even when faced with difficult tasks. Whenever Helaena was around, all her attention was on her daughter, but there were moments when she'd sneak glances at you too. Despite knowing it was wrong, she felt a strong pull towards you, eager for any stolen moment alone.

Desire stirred in her belly the closer she and you got. Whenever the two of you spoke privately, it felt like there was some kind of magnetic force drawing them together. They shared stories from their pasts and talked about building a future for the Targaryen princes. All the courtiers could do was smirk and whisper behind their backs, but they never questioned either of them about their relationship. The more Alicent got to know you, the stronger her feelings grew until eventually, they became too strong to resist – just as Rhaenyra had done so many years ago. She realized that this wasn't just admiration or friendship, it was an irresistible passion.

Every night, after bidding her husband goodnight with a forced smile, she dragged her feet back to her chambers and collapsed onto her bed, desperately trying to force the image of you out of her mind. The way you cradled Helaena up against your full bosom, making your heart thunder in her ears and how she could feel the contours of your strong buttocks when you bent down...She quivered with uncontrollable desire and spent countless nights writhing in pleasure, yearning for you to enter her chambers.

When Alicent heard that you were planning to spend the afternoon in some hot springs in a cave, not too far from King's Landing, after having chased around Helaena in the muddy gardens, she knew that this could be her chance. She asked you if she might accompany you, which made you blush. It was a rare honour for the Queen to spend time with you alone, no less going to the baths.

So the two of you ventured off to the cave, butterflies in your stomachs. The warm air that greeted you as soon as you stepped inside made your hearts race even faster and it was clear to both of you that something special was about to happen.

Alicent slowly began to undress you, her eyes fixed on yours as she peeled away layer after layer until all that remained were your undergarments. She took her time, caressing your body as she did so and kissing every inch of exposed skin. She admired your curves and ran her fingers through your soft hair before finally leaning in for a passionate kiss. As your lips touched for the first time, both of you felt a warmth like never before — an electric current that ran through your veins and left them wanting more.

The way you looked at Alicent with such lustful desire made her heart skip a beat and left her breathless; your touch felt like fire on ice – something so forbidden yet so right all at the same time – and all she wanted was for you to keep going until there would be nothing left between the two of you but pure bliss.

As Alicent continued exploring your body with trembling hands and hungry lips, it felt like everything around you had melted away into nothingness — just the two of you lost in each other’s embrace, completely oblivious to anything else outside this moment. As you swam around, the water lapping at your breasts, Alicent gracefully swam up to you and slid her hand up your thighs.

"Please", you whined needily against her warm neck as you wrapped your arms around her slippery frame,"Please, Alicent..."

Without hesitation, Alicent gently pressed your body against the limestone wall of the cave, her own trembling with anticipation. She gently kissed your neck and moaned softly as you gently touched her rounded breasts, gently rubbing her nipple and suckling on it.

You grabbed her waist and pulled her closer to your body, the heat of Alicent’s curves burning against yours. She reached up and cupped your face in her hands as you both gasped for breath, the intensity of the moment leaving you both speechless. Alicent slowly moved her hands over your mound, gently stroking your pearl and slipping her gentle fingers into your hot womanhood, pushing herself deeper inside you as you groaned softly with pleasure, gently pressing your nails into her back. The pleasurable sensations that surged through your body were like nothing either of you had ever experienced before – it was like heaven on earth. You quickly came undone on her perfect fingers, smiling widely in disbelief over the pleasure your Queen has granted you.

As Alicent grasped onto your shoulders, you knew exactly what you should do. Gently carying her over to a small ledge, you watched in delight as she opened her legs for you, the cold air hardening her nipples and showing you her beautiful cunny. Gently moistening your lips, you made a sloppy trail of kisses up her thighs and stopped at her wonderful opening, kissing and licking it until it seemed that Alicent would start screaming from pleasure. Gently licking your fingers, you lowered her back down into the hot water and inserted a finger into her trembling heat. "Is... this what you wanted, my Queen?", you murmur into her ear, gently quickening the pace of your finger, making sure that you continued stroking her pearl.

The only response you got was a muffled scream, as Alicent grabbed onto you, contracting around your fingers. Giving you a small kiss on the tip of you nose, she nodded and gave you a blissful smile. The two of you drifted away into a state of pure bliss, Alicent's breaths becoming more collected after a while. "We should return", she remarked matter-of-factly, blushing in a deep shade of crimson. "Mayhaps I should reassign you to be my lady-in-waiting, seeing as you... enjoy working for me", she said with a coy smile, gracefully wringing out her auburn hair.

Otto Hightower, the King’s Hand, was a man in his sixties, whose days were normally spent at court, advising the King and, essentially, ruling the country on his behalf. He had been appointed to his post for many years and was respected and feared by all who knew him.

At court, Otto was accustomed to being surrounded by beautiful ladies, draped in luxurious fabrics and vying for the Princes’ attention. Although he had grown used to life as a widower and taking a new bride had never truly been on his mind; most young women would seemingly resist his ideal of a perfect, modest and religious wife. But one day, Otto's gaze locked with that of an unfamiliar woman. She seemed to be of a lower station than the others, possibly a lady-in-waiting or courtier’s daughter. She was much younger than the other ladies, yet her features were aglow with an innocent beauty that left Otto utterly captivated.

He felt himself drawn to her, as if an unseen force were pulling him closer and closer. He watched with rapt attention as she moved around the court, her every movement bewitching in its grace and elegance. Her conversations were polite yet restrained, her eyes flitting quickly away whenever a man drew close to her. In the light of day, she stood in the sept like a marble statue - a beautiful image of piety and modesty. His breath caught as he noticed that her eyes were dark like coal, her hair even darker as it ran down her back like ink spilled from a quill. Every fiber of his being yearned for her, but she was beyond reach; it stirred something inside him - a fire that had been smoldering for ages, pulsing through every vein in his body until it all rushed at once to his loins and pressed urgently against the fabric of his breeches.

He felt the irresistible pull of attraction towards her as he saw her in court. He knew it was wrong—she was so young and innocent, and he was the King’s Hand sworn to serve justice with a calm impartiality. Yet despite knowing that their relationship would be difficult, if not impossible, Otto could not deny his hunger for her. The days that followed brought him more difficulty than ever before, as Otto found himself continually yearning for her and made every effort to speak with her without letting his desires take over. With each conversation, he did his best to keep his thoughts on virtuous matters, though he still noticed the curves of her body as she moved.

He was amazed at how quickly she seemed to take to him, and all too soon, his heart felt like it was taking flight. He had not expected to find himself in a situation such as this, but his feelings for her were too strong for him to ignore. He continued to fight against his feelings, knowing that he must remain a loyal subject to the King, but he could not deny the deep love and lust he felt for the woman he had only just met.

One night, after years of unspoken desire, Otto could no longer contain his urge to propose. Yet when he arrived at the young woman's chambers, he found her intoxicated with other ladies of the court. His heart was heavy as he swept her away from imminent danger and carried her into her bedroom, quickly dismissing the other young girls. The moment they entered, his breath was taken away by the room - a star-studded ceiling depicting heavenly scenes; walls adorned with tapestries of legendary battles and mythical creatures; a giant bed draped in velvet curtains of blue and green. Otto couldn't help but feel an undeniable tension between them as he set her on her feet with tenderness.

He was enthralled by her beauty, his heart racing as he took in every exquisite detail - from her porcelain skin that looked like polished ivory, to her lips that were like perfect rosebuds. "Thank you so much, Ser Otto...," she whispered sweetly and flashed him a small smile, before kicking off her slippers and laying down on the bed. All thoughts of proposing had been forgotten, replaced with an uncontrollable desire to take her right then and there. "May... may I help you with anything, my Lord?", she asked shyly, looking at him with the most tantalizing doe-eyed gaze he had ever seen.

Giving in to his primal urge, he stepped closer and grabbed her head between his hands, pulling her into a passionate kiss. "Lay down, I need you. I need your eyes to look at me like your sweetheart; I need your whispers to call out my name, I need you..." he growled hungrily, pushing up her dress to expose her pale hips which he kissed fervently, leaving thick red marks as evidence of his hunger.

Otto spread her trembling legs wider and hissed in pleasure as his fingers slid easily into her slick sweetness. He murmured into her mouth, "It seems you need me too...", his voice deep and urgent. With a steady rhythm his tongue explored her eager lips while his fingers stroked her deeper, faster. His breathing grew ragged as he savored every moan that escaped from her. "Gods, you are so tight...my innocent, beautiful girl," he murmured between desperate kisses, delighting in the way she melted for him.

He felt her powers pulling him in as she tugged him onto the bed, next to her. There was no hesitation, no room for doubt. "Otto, please don't stop.." She purred and enveloped him in a tight embrace. Quickly undoing his breeches, he nodded at her. "Strip down, my Lady, I must feast my eyes on your perfect body..."

With one fluid motion, the dress was off her shoulders and she lay flat on the bed beside him, being pulled inexorably towards his throbbing manhood. His voice quavered as he murmured in her ear "I need to feel your soft lips encase me." Unable to answer with words, he simply nodded as she tenderly took him into her hands and gazed up at him with searching eyes. "Can I?", she asked softly while tracing circles around his moist tip. Even now she was kind and humble...

In this moment, Otto felt like a god among gods. His body hummed with pleasure as the young woman beneath him looked up with wide eyes begging for more. He could feel her mouth around his manhood and the soft wetness of her tongue - he wanted to stay in this bliss forever. He tightened his grip on her head and deepened the penetration while she let out a loud moan that shivered through every inch of his aroused body. His pleasure surged and threatened to overwhelm him but he wouldn't give in just yet.

He tightly gripped her soft hips with his hands and dragged her body against his hard warmth. His eyes seared into her, smoldering with hunger as he breathed the words "Do you want me inside you?" against her lips. She shuddered in desire and nodded eagerly, arching herself up to meet him. With a deep guttural moan, Otto positioned himself between her quivering legs and thrust himself into her tightness. The pleasure was almost unbearable but they both felt it course through their veins as he slowly moved back and forth. His voice was low and commanding now: "Take me, my little dove, I know you can... Be good for me..."

From the moment he entered her, his instinctive desire drove him to move beyond what he thought was possible. Her warmth enveloped him, consuming his mind and shutting out everything else. The only thing that filled his being was her delicate scent and velvet skin, hearing her heavenly moans as she clung tightly to him with each thrust. As his climax grew closer, he knew he should have pulled away to release on the bed, but he could not resist the deep, quivering heat inside her. When his climax arrived, a loud cry of her name burst from him before he collapsed onto her exhausted body, trapping her beneath his own.

Having caught his breath, she gently pushed him to the side and quickly threw on her dress again and grinned. "Husband!", she called towards the other end of the room, where a small door opened and Larys Clubfoot emerged with an even larger smile. "Good evening, Ser Otto."

Otto's post-orgasmic haze quickly cleared as he saw her and Larys together, their hands intertwined with gleaming rings around each of their fingers. Though his mind was still slightly clouded from his encounter, Otto could not help but feel a huge wave of shame as the reality of what had happened sunk in. He had thought she was pure and innocent, but in the end it had been nothing more than a ploy by Larys to get something to hold against him in the future. It seemed she had indeed not been as naive as he'd thought, and this knowledge left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Larys continued smiling at him while the woman who had just moments ago taken his pleasure stood beside him with an air of satisfaction about her. "Congratulations wife, now let us hope that the King's Hand shall be more cautious about his decisions in the future", he said before nodding at Otto and turning away with her on his arm, disappearing again in the hidden caverns below King's Landing. Otto watched them leave, realizing too late that he should have known better than to even consider taking such risks - no matter how tempting they may be. "I shall hang you, you disgusting wretch! Behead you, Clubfoot!", he screamed and buried his face in his hands.

He remained rooted to the spot, his mind in a whirl and an ache in his heart. He had acted so rashly; he was paying the price for his foolishness now. His reputation was fractured, and there was no longer any chance of finding the kind of innocent love that he had always longed for - and yet here he was, feeling nothing but regret at the choices he had made.

The room was hollow yet imposing, as if the walls were made of solid stone and stretched for leagues. Flickering candles illuminated its contours, adding an eerie quality to the opulence of the mahogany furniture and heavy tapestries. In areas where shadows lurked deepest in the chamber, mythical creatures seemed to move like ghosts in a faint fog, ever out of reach. At the far end, an ornate fireplace filled the room with warmth, while in the center lay Prince Aemond Targaryen's bed. It was large and majestic, boasting fine silk sheets and a down-filled mattress, surrounded by exotic objects that glowed like spectres in the night.

A painting of a woman with long white hair and crown stars perched atop her head hung on the wall like a menacing reminder of days long gone. She was draped in a rusted wine gown and stared out from the painting with an emotionless, yet weary gaze. Her white eyebrows were knitted together as if she were about to unleash some indescribable fury on whoever had painted her. He had never heard any tales about the painting; but he swore, it seemed to have been there even before he was born. It watched him intently, like a dark sentinel guarding his chamber. He had taken to referring to the woman as the "Princess of Sorrows".

As he sat there in the shadows, pouring through ancient books telling the Targaryen family's stories, Aemond felt a frosty chill ripple down his spine. Occasionally he had the sense that secretive eyes were watching him, and then he'd have to hold his breath until the sensation faded away. Even though his dread was mounting, Aemond never spoke of it out loud. He feared doing so would only manifest its presence further. It was on one of those nights when the moon shone brightly, that Aemond swore he saw a silhouette in the corner of his eye turning the page of a book. His heart skipped a beat as he jumped to his feet armed with a sword, but the figure had suddenly vanished, leaving behind the whisper of skirts. He stayed still waiting for its return, but nothing stirred. Was it all just his overactive imagination? No one could tell.

The next morning, he hesitantly dispatched one of his guards to scour the palace. But not a single one among the thousand women living there resembled the figure he thought he had seen. He was now more certain than ever that his chambers were haunted, yet still afraid to accept it and acknowledge his fear of the dead. Evening after evening, he sent the guard back again and kept his hand firmly grasping his sword. Days passed, yet nothing changed: Alone in the chamber, the Princess of Sorrows seemed lost within her thoughts...and then suddenly, as soon as he started feeling at ease, he'd catch a glimpse of her again. He was determined to unravel this mystery that was plaguing him, but didn't know how to proceed. He kept his guard close by and searched for any other signs of her presence - all in vain.

Finally, after weeks of haunted nights, Aemond had had enough. He gave the silent command and all his guards began their search anew, combing every inch of the palace for any sign of something out of place. But nothing emerged. Defeated and discouraged, they returned to Aemond but he seemed unfazed by the lack of results. He still felt that something was lurking in the dark shadows, hidden from his sight. He kept a keen eye on every corner as he patrolled with his sword, when suddenly one night he spotted something strange darting away from him. Instantly he leapt into action and charged after this mysterious being, running through the darkened halls in pursuit.

As he ran, he felt a surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins, his heart beating wildly in his chest. He had no idea what he was chasing, but he was determined to catch it. The sound of his own footsteps echoed through the halls, and he felt the cool night air whipping past his face. His mind was racing, trying to anticipate his prey's moves. It was then that he saw her again: the Princess of Sorrows, darting ahead of him like a wraith, her crimson gown fluttering behind her.

He took off like a raging bull, stampeding through the castle without regard for consequence. She ran with grace and agility, always managing to stay one step ahead of him. His lungs burned and his heart pounded as he pressed on, determined to catch her this time. Time seemed to stand still as he lurched around corner after corner, hearing nothing but her echoing laughter in response. Eventually, she came to a dead end near his chambers and before she could turn tail and flee, he had her cornered.

He charged towards her, sword swinging. Stopping just short of her, he could feel the heat radiating off her. Her long white hair framed an angelic face, illuminated in the orange light of the torches. Her eyes were like galaxies, dark and deep with a sorrow that seemed to tear through him. She wore a gown of blood-red silk, and in her hands, she grasped a rose as white as snow. Aemond stood frozen in time; mesmerized by this beautiful apparition.

Aemond stood there, his breath caught in his throat as he gazed upon her beauty. He had been taught to fear this entity, but she seemed almost...human. He reached for the sword at his side and found it forgotten. "My... Lady?" he said, not sure what title would be appropriate for such a mysterious figure. The Princess of Sorrows met his gaze with a small, yet pained smile before disappearing back into the mist. Anger boiled within Aemond's veins as he marched back into his chamber, eyes fixed on the portrait of this wretched princess - her face still contorted in pain and anger.

The days seemed to fly by in a frenzied fever, yet the nights crept past with an agonizing slowness. Aemond yearned for the darkness; unable to sleep as he waited for her to appear. He was up before the sun, lost in thought in the shadows of his chamber, desperate for any sign of her presence. Though scared and uncertain, she had him in an unbreakable spell - he couldn't shift his gaze from her as they shared their clandestine tete-a-tetes.

He started to notice delicate shifts in her gestures - the way she'd linger in front of a painting as if it were speaking to her, or gaze out of the window with an enigmatic expression. He realized then that this mysterious creature had feelings like his own, and emotions and thoughts he could barely comprehend.

Aemond found himself captivated by the woman's delicate figure, her perfectly coiffed hair and petite features. Every time he saw her from afar, his heart raced as he walked closer to her in order to get a better look. He opened his mouth each time, but his courage failed him and she seemed to sense it; she quickly faded away like a phantom into the shadows, leaving Aemond perplexed and dejected.

In desperation, Aemond ventured out into King's Landing’s most notorious street - Flea Bottom - seeking out mystical knowledge from an old witch who gave him a spell that will trap any ghost in place if used correctly. Armed with newfound knowledge Aemond returned back to his chambers determined to get closer to the Princess of Sorrows and uncover the secrets that surrounded this captivating creature who had stolen his heart without even uttering a single word.

Aemond cast the spell within his chambers and sure enough, the Princess of Sorrows appeared before him looking less translucent than she had been previously. Her features were clearer, her skin more visible and her eyes filled with a mysterious and deep emotion. Aemond was taken aback at this new transformation; he had never seen the ghostly figure looking so lifelike. She stood there in her usual red gown and her touch was cold and clammy. It made Aemond's skin crawl whenever she got too close to him.

The Princess turned to Aemond, her gaze filled with sadness as if something inside of her was crying out for help "Why did you trap me?" she asked him. He could not bring himself to answer, instead he asked: "Why are you haunting me? What do you want from me?" The princess’s expression softened and she replied: "Your death is near, I only wanted to warn you."

Aemond felt his heart break at those words - the ghostly figure seemed almost too familiar now. He took a step closer to her, desperate for answers yet still wary of what he might uncover. The Princess watched him curiously but said nothing - it was clear that she would not offer any more information until Aemond answered her own question first.

Aemond inhaled sharply, his face grim. "I trapped you because I wanted to find out your secrets," he uttered darkly, his voice like a whisper in the night. His hungry gaze bore into hers and her heart raced. Slowly she nodded, her eyes never leaving his. "Yes," she murmured softly. "There is much more hidden underneath my surface than meets the eye - mysteries only time will unravel. But I cannot tell you now."

Aemond felt his heart breaking as she uttered the words. He had been so certain that she would be able to bring him the answers he so desperately sought. Yet here she was, still refusing to tell him what it was that she seemed to know. How could someone be so secretive and why? His voice betraying his emotion, Aemond asked again, "Please, just tell me what you're keeping from me! What are you hiding?"

The Princess of Sorrows sighed heavily, her shoulders sagging, tears welling up in her eyes. "There are things in this world that are better left unsaid," she replied cryptically. "Things that would only bring more pain and heartache if they were revealed."

Aemond frowned, not satisfied with her answer. He took a step closer to her, his eyes searching hers. "Please," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Help me understand. I am willing to listen, no matter what the cost."

The Princess of Sorrows hesitated for a moment before finally nodding her head. "Very well," she said, her voice eerily calm. "But be warned, you might pay dearly for it, dear Prince."

Aemond felt a shiver run down his spine at her words, but he didn't falter. He was determined to learn the truth, no matter what it might cost him. "I'm ready," he said, his voice steady.

The Princess of Sorrows sighed as she prepared to tell her story. "We had a love that was forbidden," she said, her voice quivering with emotion. "It was passionate and fiery, yet we managed to keep it hidden from those who would have forbidden us. But our luck did not last. They found out and I was forced into marriage while he...he was put to death." Her voice trailed off as tears spilled down her face.

Aemond listened in stunned silence, his heart breaking for the pain and suffering this woman had endured. He could see the pain etched into her features, the sorrow in her eyes. "Who was your husband?" he asked softly, knowing that he was treading on dangerous ground.

The Princess of Sorrows hesitated before finally replying. "He was your ancestor," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "He was a Targaryen prince, just like you."

Aemond felt his world come crashing down around him. He had always been proud of his family's history, of their legacy. But now...now he felt tainted, stained by the sins of his ancestors.

"Who was he?" he asked again, his voice barely above a whisper.

The Princess of Sorrows looked at him with a sad smile. "Maegor was my brother," she said softly. "And my husband."

Aemond felt a wave of nausea wash over him.

He stumbled back, his mind reeling with the revelation. "How...how could this be?" he whispered, his voice trembling. "And what of you?" he asked, his voice soft. "What happened to you after you were forced into marriage?"

The Princess of Sorrows let out a bitter laugh as she wiped away her tears. "I was never truly alive after that," she said, her voice hollow. "I tried to make the best of my situation, but every day was a struggle. My husband was cruel and abusive, and I spent most of my days trying to avoid him. But eventually, I couldn't take it anymore. I wanted to be free, to escape the pain and suffering that had become my life. And so, I did the only thing I could do - I jumped from my dragon and ended it all."

Aemond felt a lump form in his throat as he listened to her tragic tale. He couldn't imagine what it must have been like for her, to have lived through such pain and torment. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. "I had no idea."

The Princess of Sorrows gave him a sad smile. "It's alright," she said softly. "You couldn't have known. But now that you do, you must pay the price."

Aemond felt a chill run down his spine at her words. "What price?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

The Princess of Sorrows looked at him with a steely gaze. "You must be my lover," she said, her voice cold and firm. "And you must die."

Aemond felt his entire being freeze. Time seemed to stop as he heard her words. He couldn't process the meaning, but before he could act on his confusion, he felt the Princess of Sorrows grab him and pull him close. Her eyes were intense and mesmerizing, trapping him in their embrace. Slowly, she leaned towards him and pressed her lips against his. Aemond felt an indescribable sensation course through every inch of his body. It was a strange combination of pain and pleasure, as though something was being taken from him, some essence that he had never known existed until now, flowing gently from him into her.

Early next morning, two guards stumbled upon the lifeless body of Aemond on his grandiose bed. His mouth was agape, his eyes still open in horror as if he had seen a ghost. The maester pronounced him dead due to a mysterious heart failure that was brought about by some unknown force. Despite performing several tests, the maester could not find any clarity as to what had caused Aemond's demise.