Some say it began quietly, often in the libraries nestled in the Red Keep, inside the little archivist’s retreat hidden deep within the wood and in corridors far from the obnoxious halls of political galas. Two similar, sad souls drawn together first by intellect and wonder, their voices low, yet excited over ancient histories and peculiar celestial charts. To observe the Targaryen prince and scholar from Oldtown was to witness an inevitable yet delicate force of gravity. Aemond, with the blood of the dragon coursing in his veins and Ellaenor, the cerebral academic with stars in her eyes, spinning closer with each longing glance, and each inadvertent brush of fingers and limbs. One evening, intrigue and yearning collided, and they laid bare their scars…his carved by steel, hers a mystery from when she was taken captive years earlier. At last, his mouth clumsily found hers ...and the cosmos held its breath.