The two ladies gasped in unison at her crude words, which made them all giggle.

"Whatever makes you say that, my dear?" Aelinor asked curiously. She exchanged a look with Alys, as they were both well aware of Aerion's insolence, but they were very curious to hear her own reasoning.

She cleared her throat to answer them, when a quiet knock sounded on the door. They looked at each other with questioning looks. When none of them seemed to be expecting an interruption, Alys shouted for them to come in.

To her dismay, the Kingsguard had followed her even to the princess' chambers, and now he saw it fit to interrupt her.

"What is it?" She said, slightly irritated.

"I have been informed your sworn sword has arrived. You are requested to meet him in the courtyard."

She looked up in surprise. She was not made aware she would be assigned a sworn sword, though she supposed that must be expected for those that marry into the royal family. Aelinor and Alys, for their part, didn't look surprised at the knight's words. The man continued to look at her expectantly, waiting for her to follow him. She just let out a sigh before getting up.

"Thank you for a wonderful time, ladies. I hope to see you again soon?" she asked hopefully.

The women gave her sweet smiles, nodding at her words.

"Of course, my dear. We shall see you tomorrow," Aelinor replied.

She smiled back at them, bowing her head slightly in thanks before turning her back on them and heading out the door, with her guard following closely behind.

When they entered the courtyard of Maegor's Holdfast, she instantly knew who her new sworn sword was to be. A giddy smile spread on her face as she squealed, rushing up to him.

Before her stood Ser Edric Yronwood, who had been fostered at her home since she was two years old. He was the one who taught her how to wield a knife and how to climb a tree. He had earned his knighthood at some tourney at Storm's End years ago, which meant his fosterage was officially over. She had been just twelve years old then, and had been devastated to see him leave.

"Eddie!" She almost shouted. The blond had a wide smile on his face, thrilled to see his dear friend again after so many years. He held out his arms for her, anticipating her hug. She almost jumped into his arms, burying her face in the crook of his neck.

"Alright, angel, that's quite enough," he said teasingly, "You are a princess now."

She felt heat rise to her cheeks at his reprimand. He was right, this was no longer appropriate behavior given her position, even if it pained her to admit it.

"Are you really going to be my sworn sword?" She asked excitedly.

"That is correct," he replied, amusement clear in his tone. "But don't think that means I'll let you sneak out like you used to. I have strict orders from your husband to keep you safe at all times."

The mention of Valarr instantly soured her mood. Edric had known her long enough to notice the displeasure on her face immediately, and he tilted his head in question. She just shook her head slightly, silently communicating that now was not the time. He pursed his lip in response, curiosity burning in his dark blue eyes.

When she said nothing further, Edric decided to get on one knee in front of her.

"I pledge to be your loyal sworn sword. I shall keep your secrets and give you counsel, should you require it. I will shield your back and defend your name and honor. I shall give my life for yours, if need be. I swear it by the old gods and the new."

She knew she had to say her part of the vows now, but it had been a long time since she witnessed a ceremony like this. She racked her brain for a few moments, before suddenly remembering a time when she was fifteen. Her father's old sworn sword had passed away from some disease and he had initiated a new one, taking her along with him to watch.

"I- I vow to… to always give you a place by my hearth and table. I pledge to ask no service of you that might bring you dishonor."

She hesitated, and when he nodded in approval, she relaxed and wrapped it up. "I swear it by the old gods and the new."

He smiled at her when she finished, slowly getting up.

"Well, that was lovely," he said with a teasing tone, "What would you like to do now?"

He had insisted that he was meant to stand outside the door, guarding her from any intruders, but she did not care, pulling him by the arm into the library nonetheless.

"Come on, I want to catch up! What have you been up to? You haven't written to me in moons," she almost whined, pushing him to sit in the armchair opposite her own. He let out a mocking sigh before giving in, relaxing into the chair. He looked a bit silly, squeezing into the chair with his shining silver armor. The sight made her giggle slightly, which made him glare at her in turn.

"Oh, nothing exciting, really," he shrugged. "Guarding old Lord Baratheon was a bore, truthfully. The last time we had any excitement was when we drove out the Vulture King in the Red Mountains. Now that I think of it, your new grandfather and uncle-in-law were there as well!"

He laughed at that, but she only smiled thinly in response at the reminder of her husband's existence.

"Anyway, his son is the new Lord now, and he had no more need for me. Said he had his own guards and that my service was no longer required. So now here I am."

"Well, it might be rude to say, but I am glad the gods decided that you were needed elsewhere."

They both laughed at that. She felt a warmth spread through her body, a warmth she had not felt since her sisters had left their home and she was left all alone. She was very glad to have somebody by her side who she could trust and confide in. The gods only knew how scarce those friendships were at court.

They spend the rest of the afternoon catching up, only realizing how much time had passed when the sun started to set.

She was a bit nervous about what she was meant to do for dinner. Was she expected to join her husband in his chambers, or would that be left up to him? Though she had promised herself she would not avoid him, she still silently hoped he would leave her be, at least for the time being.

When Edric saw her expression turn melancholy, his brows furrowed.

"You did not look happy when I mentioned your husband earlier," he said carefully. "Might I ask if you have had any… issues with him?"

She averted her gaze, wringing her hands together out of nervousness.

"I-" The words got caught in her throat. Discussing such matters with a man that was not her husband was beyond inappropriate. She could not get herself to say it, and Edric could see the discomfort and reluctance on her face.

"You don't have to say anything," he said in a soothing tone. He leaned forward in his chair slightly, allowing him close enough to grab her hands gently in comfort.

"If you were treated as your sisters have been, you would tell me, right?"

His gaze was almost pleading. She could see the pain on his face at the thought of what her sisters were put through. He had not been there to protect them, and he likely felt guilty for that. He had always been especially close with her eldest sister Alerie. They were of the same age, and had been attached at the hip since his arrival in their home.

Nobody ever dared to speak of it, but she knew they were more than fond of one another. Her sister had whispered once of her wish to be wed to Edric, but everyone knew it would never be. He was a fourth son, send away to be fostered far from home for a reason. He had nothing to offer her – no inheritance, no keep to house her in, no incomes. Alerie was the eldest daughter, and her fate was to marry a wealthy, powerful lord, as to set a good example for her younger sisters.

And so she had, ending their entanglement as soon as it had begun. Bitter tears had been shed on the day Alerie left by all members of the household, though Edric's were for a different reason. Edric had left for the tourney at Storm's End not long after, leaving their home feeling empty and cold.

They both just stared at each other with damp eyes for a while before she simply nodded in response. She knew Edric would not let any harm come to her, even if that meant he had to keep her safe from a prince. If only he could keep her safe from heartbreak, she would have done the same for him.

"I promise, Eddie," she whispered shakily.

He continued to stare at her, intend on determining her sincerity. She gave him a wet smile, and he seemingly decided she was telling the truth, as he gave her a weak smile back.

"Alright then," He patted her hands before letting go, slowly getting up. "Let's get you some supper."

She took his arm as they slowly left the library. They had decided to leave at just the right time, it seemed, because one of the Kingsguards approached them before they had even finished walking down the hall.

"The prince would like you to join him for supper in his chambers, my lady."

She tensed up at his words, looking at him in disbelief. She had hoped it was a joke, but he kept a blank look on his face as she stared at him.

She briefly glanced at Edric standing beside her, who had trouble hiding his confusion at the tension in the air.

She considered refusing before remembering she had promised herself she would no longer avoid him. She gave the guard a look that might have killed a lesser man before replying.

"Very well," she said dismissively, making her way towards the Holdfast without waiting for a response.

She stood still in front of the door for a long time, her breathing shallow. Edric shot her a concerned look before knocking on the door in her stead.

"If you need anything," he gave her a pointed look, "I will be here."

She nodded at him, refusing to meet his eye, just before a servant opened the door for them from inside. She had not seen his chambers yet, but they were decorated in the manner she had expected. Dark hues dominated the room, Targaryen-style tapestries covering the walls with matching carpet on the floors. His chambers appeared marginally larger than her own, with room for a dining table large enough for six behind the chairs surrounding the fire.

Two male servants stood ready to attend them, one still holding the door open. She hoped they would be dismissed soon, because she did not wish anybody to witness her inevitable humiliation.

Valarr sat at the head of the table, his gaze moving up to meet hers as soon as she entered the room. She could not decipher the look he gave her. A mix of emotions seemed to swirl in his eyes, though none of them seemed to be anger or hatred. She was glad for that, at least.

She tried her best to keep her expression neutral as she curtsied at him, though it wasn't easy. They had not been apart this long since their meeting, and her heart still longer for him. Seeing his beautifully intricate face again was almost a relief, if it had not been for the bitterness that dominated everything else.

His expression had seemed sincere when he looked at her, but she could see his walls go back up when his gaze passed from her to Edric, who still stood by her side.

"Gevie," he breathed out, "please, sit down."

She could feel his gaze burn into her as she approached the table, refusing to meet his eyes. Edric followed closely behind, pulling her chair out for her to sit down. She send him a small grateful smile before smoothing out her skirts under the table.

"You may leave, Ser Edric," Valarr said dismissively, sending him a look she did not understand. Edric straightened up at his words and nodded stiffly. He send her a quick comforting look before walking out the door again.

"Erryk, Garth, you may leave as well," he spoke to the servants, who quickly made their way out of the chambers as well. To hear him address his servants by name was quite unusual, though it did not truly surprise her. She knew he held much kindness in his heart, though he did not see it fit to extend that kindness to her the previous night, it seemed.

She still did not have the strength to meet his gaze, so instead she focused on the many plates of food in front of her. Dozens of plates with different cheeses, meats, vegetables, cakes, and breads covered the length of the tables. It was way too much for two people, and all she could think about was how much of a waste it was. She would likely not be able to keep down as much as a bite, while many small folk probably starved outside these walls.

Valarr continued to silently stare at her all the while, and it unnerved her a great deal. First he rejects her, and now he wants to spend time with her just to stare and say nothing?

Over the last week, and particularly at the feast, she had heard many lords and ladies refer to Valarr as a 'brave' and 'bold' young man. It seemed to her he lacked both of those attributes when he was with his own wife.

"I– I wish to apologize. I never meant to to yell at you. It was unbecoming of me, and frankly completely unacceptable," he said quietly, an almost pleading look on his face.

She remained silent, instead choosing to take a sip of her wine. She finally found the courage to look at him, a blank expression on her face.

"Yes, it was," she said simply. "What are you going to do about it?"

He looks at her with a blank expression before furrowing his brows. "What do you mean?"

She just shrugged, thinking her words were pretty clear. "You have not done your marital duty. Soon enough, the whole court will wonder why I am not yet with child. I may not understand what the bedding entails, but I do know I will be considered a disgrace to the crown. Your actions, or rather the lack thereof, will reflect on me, not you. All because you are a coward."

She had not meant to be so harsh, but she had gotten more angry with every word she spoke. What is an apology worth without a chance in behavior?

"A coward?" He repeated, hurt clear in his voice. The sound of that alone made he want to take back her words, but he did not allow her to get a word in.

"You have no clue what I am even protecting you from. I am doing what's best for you, and you can't even appreciate it!" He said angrily.

"Appreciate it? What am I meant to 'appreciate', exactly? The fact you have put me in a position where the entirety of the court and history will judge me for being unable to provide the crown with an heir? Or the fact that you have actively rejected me, thereby allowing you to set me aside and marry another whenever you or the king wishes it?"

He furrowed his brows at her words, not knowing what to say in response. He had never seen her so angry.

"I have a right to know why you are forsaking our marriage before it has even begun, Valarr. You don't even have the decency to explain yourself! I will not just let you make decisions for me without protest. I am not that sort of woman, and if that is what you wish for in a wife, you are more than welcome to set me aside and find another."

She stood up from her seat before he could speak, quickly making her way to the door. He called out her name, the one he so rarely used, but she did not look back as she exited his chambers. She could hear his chair scrape across the floor as he rushed after her, but she had already crossed the hall and opened her door before he could follow. Edric had followed her quickly, confusion evident on his face.

"I will explain later, just please, do not let him into my chambers," she begged him, and he nodded solemnly before closing the door behind her.

She quickly locked her door before putting her back to it as tears started to stream down her face. She slid down the door slowly as she heard muffled voices coming from the other side. She could not make out what they were saying, though she wasn't sure if she even wanted to know.

"Let me through, Ser," Valarr said harshly to his wife's new sworn sword.

He had appointed the blond man to the position himself, knowing of their old acquaintance. He knew she would likely miss her home, and wanted her to have someone she could trust. He had also hoped a man who had grown up alongside her would have more incentive to protect his beloved. He had never thought that would mean protecting her from him, however.

"No," he replied simply, giving him a cold glare. The knight towered over the prince by nearly a full head, an advantage he was using to the fullest at the moment. "She commanded me to not let you in, my prince, so I will not."

She did? Gods, he felt sick. Why was it that every time he tried to explain himself to her, he just managed to make everything worse?

"Might I give you some advice, your Grace?" Edric said cautiously,a blank expression on his face.

Valarr looked at him bitterly until he saw the sincerity on the man's face. Edric had known her since they were both children, and as much as he hated to admit it, the person who knew her the best in this castle was without a doubt the man in front of him. He let out a sigh before slowly nodding.

"Give her some time. She is quick to anger, always has been," a small smile crossed his face briefly at the memory.

"Try to be careful with your words, but most importantly, be honest with her. Whatever the issue may be between you two, she appreciates honesty above else, even if it may hurt her."

Valarr was silent for a long time. He observed the man across from him carefully. All he saw was the face of an honest man. One that was quite protective of his childhood friend.

Valarr turned away from him slowly, heading to his own door before speaking again.

"Thank you, Edric," he said quietly, his voice cracking slightly as he felt the tears burning behind his eyes.

The knight did not respond. As Valarr entered his own chambers, it all felt like déjà vu. He could hardly believe he had managed to hurt her again, when that is all he had set out to prevent. He cursed himself at the thought.

She was right to call me a coward, he thought. What kind of man would continue to hurt his own wife instead of just owning up to his mistakes? Only a coward would feel like he he had to hide his insecurities and fears in front of her like this.

He kept tossing and turning before falling into a restless sleep, his mind set on fixing his mistakes.

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She had no wish to call a maid and alert the castle that she had awoken, so she quickly decided to get dressed in an comfortable gown she could put on by herself. She then attempted to make her hair look presentable, her red-rimmed eyes staring back at her through the gilded mirror as she did so. She took a moment to gather her courage before she quietly walked towards the door.

She found the same Kingsguard in front of her door as last night. He briefly tensed up at her sudden appearance, before quickly straightening his back. She could see he was prepared to question her – why was she up so early, why did she get dressed without a maid, did she need anything? – but she quickly held up her hand to silence him before he could speak.

"I will be visiting the library today. There is no need to accompany me, I will be fine on my own."

She was glad that she had paid close attention to the lay-out of the Red Keep the last week, or she would never be able to find the library on her own.

"I'm afraid that is not possible, my lady. I have strict orders from the prince to ensure your safety at all times. I will wait for you outside the library, should you need anything."

She cursed internally at his stubbornness. He would surely report her every move to her cursed husband, ruining her plans of solitude for the day. She glared at him angrily until he averted his eyes.

"Alright," she gritted her teeth in annoyance, "Follow me then."

She quickly made her way down the hall, forcing the knight to quicken his step to catch up with her. She had no wish to linger in the hallway any longer than necessary.

The library had quickly become her second favorite place in the Red Keep, after the Godswood. The thought of the gardens only seemed to sour her mood now, however, and she knew the library to be large enough that she would likely not have to see another soul for the rest of the day. She had spend quite some time in there since her arrival, and she had not seen anyone other than her husband, which was only whenever he accompanied her. It was the closest thing to peace she was like to find today.

Though it was still very early in the morning, some lords and ladies already roamed the halls. She did not have the strength to speak to any of them, so whenever they greeted her, she only nodded back and tried her best to smile at them. She knew the heartache was still evident on her face, with dark circles visible under her swollen eyes. She could only hope that they did not look too closely at her as she passed them as quickly as she could.

No matter how much she tried, she could still not wrap her head around Valarr's actions last night. He had seemed so adoring and earnest ever since she met him. His sudden shift made very little sense to her. What had she done wrong, to make him treat her in this manner ?

Tears burned behind her eyes as she finally approached the library. The guard rushed ahead, intent on opening the door for her. She just nodded at him while she stepped inside cautiously, not having the strength to thank him.

The library was larger than any other she had ever seen. She was told that only the library that rivals it was at the Citadel, though she had never seen it for herself. There were rows of dark mahogany bookshelves as far as the eye could see, with matching tables and chairs covering the middle section of the room. Small spiral staircases allowed access to the second floor of the library, though those shelves carried the less popular books. Every once in a while, the rows of bookshelves was interrupted by a small nook where some armchairs and sofas stood surrounding a fireplace.

She had her sights set on a comfortable chair on the second floor, all the way in the back of the library, far away from prying eyes. She quickly climbed the stairs, holding her skirts carefully as she did so. When she arrived there, however, she found her seat was already taken.

A lanky man sat at the table, bent over a thick leather-bound tome. He had long, silver hair that reached the middle of his crooked back, and his beard was much longer than any she had ever seen. She quickly realized the man was her husband's uncle, Prince Aerys. She had never seen him before, but he was known to be extremely bookish, with very little interest in other worldly affairs. It surprised her that she hadn't seen him here before, though she supposed he might have chosen to hide away elsewhere while the wedding preparation and festivities were still ongoing.

She cursed under her breath at the sight of him, which earned her the attention of the rather unkempt prince in front of her.

"Can I help you, dear?" He asked gently, his pale purple eyes studying her carefully. His gaze seemed all-knowing and familiar, as if he knew everything about her, which made a chill run down her spine. She froze at his attentive gaze, and simply shook her head.

"N-No, Your Grace. I did not mean to interrupt. I–"

"No need for the titles, girl. We are family now. You may simply call me Aerys."

She briefly wondered how he knew who she was, before realizing he had likely seen her together with her betrothed at some point. They had been together quite frequently, after all, and Aerys was known to lurk in the shadows, typically ignored by the rest of the court.

"Alright. I shall leave you alone now, Aerys," she said quietly, casting her eyes to the floor. She took a small step back, intend on turning around before he interrupted her again.

"Come here for a second, dear," he said gently. She had not expected the man to sound so kind, going off of the stories she had heard in the hallways. Perhaps she should know better than to believe those stories now. Still, she no longer knew what to believe after how her husband had treated her. Perhaps what the small folk whispered was correct, and all Targaryens are truly mad, one way or another.

Against her better judgment, she followed his instructions. When she stood next to him, he only patted the chair by his side. She reluctantly sat down, folding her hands across her lap nervously.

Both of them remained silent for a few moments as he studied her with his piercing eyes.

"I dreamed of you."

She looked up at him in surprise. The tale of Daenys the Dreamer had been her favorite story growing up, so she was well aware that the blood of the dragon sometimes had prophetic dreams. She wasn't aware that it still occurred to this day, though.

"Me?" She said stupidly.

He just nodded solemnly in response. When she didn't say anything else, he started to look around anxiously before he spoke again, seemingly scared someone might overhear.

"You are meant to turn the tides of fate, my dear. The prince that was promised shall come from your line, I have seen it."

She knitted her brows at his words. What prince was he talking about, and what was promised and to whom? She racked her brain trying to process his words. Did that at least mean she would bear a son one day? She did not know how to feel about that, seeing as her husband seemingly had every intention of preventing that from happening.

She continued to stare at him, hoping he would clarify what he meant, but he just stared back. The paleness of his irises was almost unnerving to look at. When he did not speak any more, she decided it was best that she let him be.

"Thank you, Aerys, for your… words," she said carefully, "I shall leave you to it now."

He nodded in contentment at that, his gaze immediately returning to the book in front of him. When she finally stepped away, he was hunched over his book again, as if she had never been there at all.

Before she had the chance to walk away, she saw a woman approaching them from down the walkway. The lady was short in statue, with soft brown hair up in an intricate updo and a crimson dress adorning her full figure. Her amber eyes narrowed at the strange girl briefly before recognition seemed to pass over her features. She assumed this to be Aerys' wife, the lady Aelinor Penrose.

"My lady, it is a pleasure to finally meet you," the lady said with a small smile on her face. Her gaze seemed cautious as she scanned the girl's figure up and down as she spoke.

Aerys looked up at the sound of his wife's voice, a smile slowly spreading across his face.

"Good morning, Aelinor! I had a dream about my dear niece here last night," He said excitedly, a gratified smile on his face as he did it.

Aelinor's eyes widened at his words, her eyes darting between the girl and her husband for a second before she approached the prince.

"Was it a bad one?" She asked cautiously, her hand landing on his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him.

"No, no, not to worry. For once, it was a good one," he replied, his gaze softening as it moved from his book to his new niece. She did not understand the look he was giving her, but she just smiled back at him regardless. He seemed well-meaning, just a bit… complicated. Perhaps that was another common Targaryen trait, with their dragon blood and all.

Aelinor's calculating gaze briefly fell on her now, though it softened considerably at her husband's words. "Aerys, I thought we might break our fast together. Would you like that?"

Aelinor's face seemed prepared for rejection, which struck her as odd, until she remembered she would also reject her own husband if he asked her now. She wondered if this is how her own marriage is to be as well. The thought made a pit form in her stomach.

"No, no, I have to finish this. Perhaps the answers lay in Asshai after all. I must find out more."

He waved his wife's touch away, burying his nose in the thick book in front of him again. Aelinor just closed her eyes in mild frustration, letting out a small, measured breath. She briefly pinched her nose bridge before opening her eyes again, now turning towards the girl.

"Would you like to break fast with me then, my dear? I shall introduce you to Alys, I think she would very much like to get to know you."

She blinked for a second before nodding quickly, a timid smile spreading across her face. This is exactly what she needed – women who understood her new position and could teach her how to act. If her husband was not going to be her ally, it was essential for her survival at court that she make her own friends.

"I would like that very much, my lady."

"Splendid. And also, there is no need for the titles. We are family now, just call me Aelinor."

She almost let out a chuckle at Aelinor unknowingly repeating her husband's words. They might not have been a love match, but they surely seemed to share one mind.

She approached the older woman excitedly, who walked ahead to lead them to her chambers.

"I hope you enjoyed the feast last night, my dear," Alys said with a suggestive smile on her face.

The three ladies had long since finished their meals, now just sipping their tea in Aelinor's solar. She sat at the head of the long table, the two ladies flanking her sides. The sunlight was streaming in through the large windows now, warming them up slowly.

She missed the warning glare Aelinor send her good-sister, but Alys either did not notice or did not care.

"And the bedding, of course," she wiggled her eyebrows at the younger girl. The girl almost choked on her tea then, making her cough loudly.

"Alys!" Aelinor scolded under her breath, smacking Alys' arm.

"What?" Alys asked, genuinely perplexed. "I know it was no fun for you, but from what I've heard, those two are proper in love. Besides, Valarr is a lovely boy, as you well know. Surely he was kind to her."

She kept coughing slightly in attempt to mask the tears that welled up in her eyes at Alys' words. When she finally recovered, both of the ladies were staring at her expectantly. Even Aelinor could not hide her curiosity.

"I–" She cleared her throat, not sure how to answer. She had no wish to lie to the ladies who had been kind enough to take her in after her husband had cast her out, unbeknownst to them. Not to mention that she was a terrible liar, and truthfully, she wanted nothing more than to get her emotions off her chest and to get somebody else's opinion on the matter.

"We did not…" The words got stuck in her throat, but she could see by the shock on their faces that they understood her meaning nonetheless.

"Really?" Alys said, clearly perplexed. She sat further back in her chair, folding her hands in front of her on the table. "Really? For what reason?"

"But they found blood on his sheets…" Aelinor wondered silently, looking at Alys in question, who had a confused expression on her face as well.

She simply shrugged in response, tears starting slipping down her cheeks now. The two ladies said nothing for a moment, just giving her sympathetic looks. Aelinor, who sat next to her, simply put a comforting hand on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"I do not know," she pushed out, "He would not give me a reason. He simply said it was for the best. I am quite sure he plans to cast me aside."

She did not dare to look at Aelinor as she said it, though she could see her tense up in the corner of her eye.

"Nonsense!" Alys said cheerfully, trying to ease the tension, "The way he looks at you, I cannot imagine him ever not wanting you by his side."

"Then what is wrong with me?" She whispered, her voice cracking.

Aelinor took a deep breath next to her, leaning forward in her chair.

"I wondered that myself for many years. I thought he perhaps had a mistress he loved more, or that he was… not interested in women at all. But eventually, I realized that the fault did not lay with me. I did my best to be a dutiful wife, but he did not reciprocate, so that is where it ended. I tried to be his friend instead, his confidante, and I still am. That was enough for me. It had to be."

Aelinor looked at her for a reaction, but when she did not give on, she let out a sigh before continuing.

"But Valarr is not like Aerys. Aerys has never looked at me the way Valarr looks at you. Perhaps he felt too much pressure last night, and simply wishes to do it at another time. He is the heir's heir, and that comes with a heavy burden and and a lot of expectations. Maybe he is simply not ready, and wishes to get more comfortable with you before you do… your duty."

She just looked at Aelinor, tears still in her eyes. "How do I know if it isn't something I have done, if he will not give me a reason?"

Both women let out a sigh at that, all too familiar with men and how they act.

"Men all have their flaws, my dear," Alys replied, waving her hands around as if to dismiss her worries from the air, "Particularly when it comes to their emotions. This is his failing, not yours."

She just nodded at that, her tears slowly drying on her cheeks. Perhaps there was some truth to what they said. She could not pinpoint anything she had done wrong, and even if she had, it was Valarr's responsibility to tell her what it was.

She was far from ready to forgive him, that much was clear, but she would not continue to avoid him. This is his problem to solve now. In the meantime, she would try and find her own joy and purpose in her new royal life.

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Nor had she met any adult princesses who might be able to teach her how to bear this burden as of yet. Both King Daeron and Prince Baelor had been widowers for a long time, therefore leaving the realm without a queen for many years to come. She knew two of Valarr's uncles still roamed the castle, and that they were both wed, but she had not yet met either of them. Their carefully hidden absence at both the wedding and the feast had not escaped her notice, though she had not dared to ask Valarr for the reason. Servants and nobles alike often whispered harsh words about both of the princes in the halls, so she knew better than to address such a sensitive topic on a night like tonight.

She was pulled from her thoughts when Valarr stopped in front of the doors to his bedchambers. He had a timid smile on his face, though it did not seem to reach his eyes. She briefly wondered why, before realizing he must be nervous as well. He had admitted as much to her, though she had presumed that had more to do with the prospect of the marriage as a whole, and not necessarily the bedding. Perhaps he was inexperienced as well, though surely he knew more than her about their marital duties. She still had no clue about what exactly it was that was awaiting her in his bedchambers. She understood it was not likely to be a pleasant experience, going off of her sisters' overly vague stories, but she doubted Valarr would ever be cruel to her. Whatever was going to happen, he would surely do it with as much kindness and compassion as possible.

He briefly glanced at her face, his expression unreadable, before he opened the doors. He gestured with his hand for her to enter before him, and she walked in with awe clear on her face.

Where her old chambers had been filled with her house colors, these were covered in her own favorite color instead. Tapestries filled the walls here as well, though these were less in the Targaryen style and more in the style of her own home. They had entered into the solar first, though she could see the bedroom through a large door to her right. A large fireplace, already lit, bathed the the comfortable-looking sofa and chairs in front of it in soft yellow light. Bookcases that nearly reached the ceiling stood on the opposite side of the room, as well as a large desk that was already decorated with the keepsakes she had brought with her from home. To her left she saw a peek of the bath and dressing room. She took a couple steps to see into the bedroom, where a large canopied bed stood against the opposite side of the room. Valarr followed closely behind her, a soft smile on his face at her wonder. A sizeable vanity stood near the large windows on the other side of the room, and the mirror above it softly reflected the moonlight, bathing the room in silver light.

"These chambers used to be my late mother's. I took the liberty to fill the shelves with some books I thought you might enjoy. I also asked your father to bring some of his own tapestries, to make you feel at home. I hope you like it."

She took a moment to take in the sight before her, and what it meant. It was stunning, and a tender act of love that she did not feel she deserved. And yet, were they not supposed to go to his chambers on this night? Why was he showing her this now?

"T-thank you. It's absolutely perfect," she stuttered out. She quickly turned to him, wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug. He seemed shocked by it at first, but he recovered quickly, wrapping his strong arms around her waist, keeping her close.

"You're very welcome, my love," he murmured into her hair.

Her face was buried into his chest now, and she never wanted him to let her go. He smelled of everything she loved: the smell of fresh ink on paper, old books, a lit fireplace, the gardens in the spring. She did not think she could ever get enough of it. She closed her eyes as she took his presence in.

All too quickly, however, he gently untangled his arms from her. He took a careful step back, his warm gaze returning to the unreadable expression from earlier. He quickly cleared his throat, his eyes avoided her gaze. He took a couple steps out of the bedroom, to her confusion, and towards the exit of her chambers.

"Well, I shall leave you here. My chambers are just across the hall, and one of the Kingsguards shall guard your rooms at all times. Should you need anything, you need only ask them. Have a good night, my love."

It took her a second to process his words, not understanding them in the least. He had already turned his back on her and approached the door before she found the words to respond, quickly following after him.

"W-what? I-, I'm sorry, I'm not sure I understand. So you shall spend the night in your own chambers?"

He reluctantly turned back to her, and she could see on his face that he had hoped, in vain, that she would not argue with him.

"Yes," he simply replied. His tone was painfully neutral, lacking all the warmth he had shown her before.

"It is our wedding night. Are we not meant to spend this night together?" She asked, her face clearly showing how puzzled she was by his sudden change in behavior. "My septa said that is what happens on a wedding night."

"Gevie, please, it is late. I think we should both get some sleep."

Dread was starting to pool in her stomach. Did he no longer want her? Perhaps he was starting to regret his decision to marry her. While she did not know exactly what was supposed to happen during the bedding, she knew one was not truly married if it had not been performed. She was suddenly reminded of a rumor she had heard around the Keep this last week. Valarr's uncle, Prince Aerys, had supposedly never consummated his marriage with his wife, the lady Aelinor Penrose. This failure to perform their duty would allow him to cast her aside one day, if he had cause to do so. Tears formed in her eyes at the thought. Is that what he intended to do with her? Wait until the excitement of the wedding had calmed down, only to then cast her aside?

"No, Valarr. We are supposed… We are married. Are we not supposed to do what married people do?" She could hear the desperation in her own voice as she felt a tear slip down her cheek. Gods, she had never wished to know what the bedding entailed as much as now.

Valarr clenched his jaw at her words. His stance had turned rigid and his expression was still unreadable. He had never once seemed eager to leave her presence until now.

"Have I done something wrong?" Her voice cracked, but she could not get herself to care. "If I have, please, please tell me. Whatever it is, I am truly sorry."

Those words made his nonchalant facade crack. She could see the hurt in his eyes, before he cast his eyes to the floor as he quietly spoke.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, my love. I just… I…"

"Then what is it?" She bowed her head in an attempt to make him meet her gaze. "Whatever it is, you know you can tell me, right?"

He clenched his jaw again, and he finally met her eyes, though he seemed almost angry now.

"Are you demanding I perform my marital duty to you?" He said harshly.

"What? No!" She replied quickly, another tear falling down her face as she took a step towards him in desperation. He did not let her approach, however, and quickly took another step back. "I-I am not demanding anything. I just…" She was truly lost for words now, and he took that as his opportunity to turn his back on her again, his face a blank canvas.

"I am truly sorry if I have hurt your feelings, but I promise you that this is for the best. I do not wish to hurt you further. We shall speak of this another time. Have a good night."

He took another step towards the door. Her anguish turned to exasperation now, and she quickly walked towards him, not allowing him to reach the door. She stood in his way, forcing him to meet her eyes.

"Valarr… Is this how our marriage is to be? Both of us living in separate chambers, never…"

Doing our duty, like your uncle Aerys, she thought, though she did not say it.

He took a deep breath, his mismatched eyes gazing at her tear-stained face with a painful expression on his face. His eyes had become damp as well, eyebrows knit as he looked at the pain he had caused his beloved.

"For now, yes," he said gently.

"Why?" She whispered, her gaze pleading. She did not wish anything of him except to understand. Why is this what he wanted, and why did he claim it was 'for the best'? She had felt out of her depth her entire time at court, but this was the thing that had confused her the most. Is this truly how their married life was going to start?

"I thought it… it would be easier." He muttered, anguish visible on his face now.

"For whom?" She quickly resorted. It would certainly not make her life at court easier, she knew that much. Nothing could hurt the precious Young Prince's reputation, of course, but she did not wish to end up as all the other ladies who had been easily disregarded by their husbands. Nobody would ever respect or forgive her if she failed at her duties in this manner. Even the eternal scorn she would have faced, had she actually successfully fled the Red Keep would have likely been better.

"What?" He said, confused.

"Easier for whom? You or me?"

The annoyance became visible on his face again, and he turned his face away from her.

"I will not be debating this with you tonight," he said, his tone final.

"This is not a debate, Valarr, I merely want to understand. You need to tell me–" She replied, exasperation evident in her voice.

"I do not need to do anything. I have decided! I am your prince!" He suddenly shouted out, his face turning red in anger.

She had never heard him raise his voice to anybody, let alone her. It immediately silenced her. She looked at him in disbelief, before she quickly managed to put a guarded look on her face. She took several steps back, folding her hands in front of her, as if to shield herself from his hurtful words.

It was evident that he immediately regretted his words, but she no longer cared. He put his hands up as if in surrender, trying to take a step towards her. This time, she was the one to take a step back from him. She put one hand up, a gesture for him to remain silent.

"My mistake. I thought you were 'just Valarr'. Pray forgive me, Your Grace."

His face crumbled at her cold words, a silent tear streaming down his face.

"Gevie–."

"I think it is best you retire to your bedchambers now, Your Grace, as you said."

He attempted to step towards her again, but she continued the cruel dance, stepping further back. His eyes begged for her to stop, but her face had gone carefully blank, her stare distant.

"My love… I promise you, this is what is best for both of us."

"Of course, Your Grace. Whatever you wish," She turned her back to him as she said, "Now, I kindly ask you to leave my chambers."

Her voice and eyes had lost all of its warmth. Where she had once thought him to be different from all of her previous suitors, he had quickly proven that his kindness was nothing more than a pretense to trick her into marrying him. For what purpose, if he did not intend to bed her, she did not know yet, but she supposed she never truly knew him at all.

Valarr seemed lost for words. He looked at her for a while, realizing she was being sincere. She no longer wanted him near her, as she always had before. He swallowed the lump in his throat before abruptly turning away from her, towards the door.

He did not look back before he softly closed the door behind him, but he did not have the courage to move from his spot for quite a while, either. He could feel the inquisitive gaze of Ser Roland Crakehall as he stood there, but he did not care to explain himself to the knight. When he suddenly heard her quiet cries come through the solid wooden door, however, he made haste across the hall and quickly entered his own chambers.

Gods, he was such an fool. He had only ever wanted to make sure she was safe, that she would never feel any pain, and yet he had been the only one to cause it. He hadn't expected her to react so strongly, as he would expect most women to be relieved that they were spared a bedding. Instead, his beloved had only seen it as an insult.

He had let his anger, his fears and his own insecurities get the best of him, and now he had hurt the very person he was meant to protect from harm.

He had watched his own mother perish in the birthing bed, and he had no intention of inflicting that on his love. He knew it was inevitable for him to eventually need heirs, but he could not bear to put her at risk. Not when he just got her. He wished to enjoy her presence for many more years to come. Now, he might have lost her now regardless, just in a different way.

He had believed she would understand that risk and the fear that came with pregnancy, but it seemed to him she hadn't considered it in that way. Perhaps she thought it was her duty and she did not believe she had a choice in the matter, simply facing her fate with her head held high. Well, he did have a choice, and he was not going to lose her.

He only wished he had not hurt her in the process. He had yelled at his wife, something he swore he would never do. If he had failed to be a good husband after less than a day, what does that say of his prospects as king? How could he be a just ruler if he could not even do right by his own wife? A true dragon for the first time, he mused to himself bitterly, burning down everything in its path.

In an attempt to distract himself, Valarr decided to busy himself with making his bed seem like it had witnessed a true bedding. He cut his own arm to bloody his sheets, watching the crimson stains spread out on the sheets. The blade hurt much less than seeing the heartbroken look on his beloved's face, he thought bitterly.

That night, the newlyweds both cried themselves to sleep, each wanting nothing more than to be by the other's side.

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To say they were captivated with him would be an understatement. Their expressions matched the once they held when they were little girls, gazing longingly at the brave knights that passed through their father's keep. After a while, Valarr had to leave to attend to some duties with his father, and once he was out of sight, they had squealed at her, grabbing her hands and hugging her.

"The Gods have truly blessed you, sweet sister," her oldest sister, Alerie, called out, a broad smile on her face. She giggled back in response, being reminded fondly of their time as young girls, before any unhappy marriages and unwelcome duties had destroyed their child-like joy and optimism. They had all dreamed of marrying a gallant knight and a kind, worthy Lord, who would kiss them gently and care for them for the rest of their days. It seemed the Gods decided she was the only one of her sisters to be allowed that kindness.

A sorrowful smile graced her features at that thought, and she grabbed their hands gently. "He is a better match than I could have ever wished for, I know. Now, you’ve fussed over me long enough. How are you two fairing? Myrielle, I know the Gods have blessed you, as well."

She glanced gently at her sister's stomach, which had a noticeable swell to it. Her two sisters shared a knowing, bittersweet look, before Myrielle simply nodded at her.

"Yes. A true blessing," she whispered sadly. It was clear in her posture that she did not wish to speak of it any further, so she reluctantly turned back to Alerie.

"And you? How are my darling niece and nephew?" She said hopefully. She knew Alerie held no love in her heart for her lord husband, but her children were everything to her. She loved them more than life itself, she knew, so perhaps the topic would brighten their spirits. Even Myrielle, who had never been much for children, adored the little troublemakers.

"They are more than well. Arthur learned how to walk recently! Lyra has been delighted to finally have someone to run around with. She seems eager to pass her mischievous ways on to her brother. Just last week, he found his way into the stables and pulled a horse's tail! He was quite lucky the creature didn't kick him. I almost fainted when Lyra told me."

The three sisters giggled loudly at the tale. She was overjoyed to finally be with her family again. She had almost forgotten what it was like to be with them, having spend the last year alone at her father's keep, his only unwed child. It had taken her mind off the wedding for the rest of the day.

Even their warm presence and reassuring words could not calm her this time. She was not sure why she suddenly felt so overwhelmed. Perhaps Valarr's comforting welcome this past week had fooled her into believing all that truly mattered was the two of them. While that may hold some truth, she still had to face the Lords and the Realm now regardless. She would have to do that, over and over again, for the rest of her life. Could one ever be ready for that?

All she could do was try to steady her breathing as the carriage continued, undeterred by her internal panic. Her sisters continued to speak to her in a reassuring tone, one laying a comforting hand on her arm, but the ringing in her ear meant she could not make out any of the words. She had not even noticed that the carriage stopped moving and that the shouting outside got louder as a Kingsguard opened the carriage door. Both of her sisters gave her a reassuring squeeze and smile before they nodded towards the door, urging her on. She took one last, deep breath before she found the courage to climb out of the carriage.

Her dress trailed behind her as her feet found the ground, her sisters lifting the train slightly. Her dress was beautifully intricate, covered in gold thread, pearls and other small gemstones. Beaded embroidery covered the top of her chest, following along the neckline. Her shoulders were mostly bare, which made her feel awfully exposed. She had loved how it looked during the fittings, but she hadn't fully realized how she might feel with the entire Realm gazing at her naked shoulders. Her dress was rather tight on her upper body, but flowed beautifully down her hips, all the way to the ground. The bottom part of her dress and the train were decorated with both the sigil of her own house and that of her soon-to-be husband in complementing colors. Her sleeves went wide below her elbows. They were wider than she had ever worn them, and while it looked beautiful, she was not too sure about the practicality of it. How was she meant to eat at her own wedding feast like this?

Her head was covered in a small diadem. Her father-in-law had said it once belonged to his own wife, her future husband's lady mother, so she made sure to be very careful with it. It was a delicate golden band with one singular red gemstone at the center, and it complemented her dress beautifully. The diadem carefully kept her long, fluttery veil in place. It was so long that it trailed behind her for several feet when she walked up the steps of the Great Sept of Baelor.

Her father was waiting for her at the top of the stairs, his arm outstretched for her to take with a wide smile on his face. The entrance to the Sept was wide open, and she could see a glimpse of her intended at the end of the aisle. Only at the sight of him did she feel like she could breath properly since she left the Red Keep.

When she finally entered the Sept, she did so with a wide smile and adoration evident in her gaze.

It had not been as scary as she had expected. The Lords did not look upon her with contempt, or the Ladies with anger or jealousy. In fact, they had all seemed rather satisfied at the events that had unfolded in front of them that morning. Everything had gone well; she did not trip while approaching the Septon and Valarr, nor did she suddenly forget her vows.

Despite their closeness over the past week, he had never kissed her properly. He kissed her hand daily, and she had been brave enough once to give him a brief kiss on the cheek, but that’s the furthest it had gone until today. It was gentle and lovely and filled with their sweet devotion to one another. They had both been nervous to take part in such a public display of affection, however, so it still remained brief and proper.

She was seated next to her husband now, and while all eyes still remained on her, she did not care about it anymore. His hand rested lightly on her thigh under the table, as if to comfort her, and it was all she could focus her attention on. Was it really that warm in the Great Hall, or was it just her?

Her new family was spread out along the long table that covered the dais in front of the Iron Throne. She sat at the center of the table, with Valarr to her left. King Daeron was seated by her husband’s side, eating his meal in silence. She had not met King Daeron until today, which struck her as odd, but she did not dare to question it.

The King's other son, Prince Maekar, was seated beside him, and his children after him. Valarr had ensured that Aerion would sit as far away from them as possible, so he sat at the far end of the table. That slight seemed to infuriate him to no end, as he had not seized to glare at them since the feast had begun.

Maekar's daughters were sat next to each other, leaning into each other's side. They were whispering to each other conspiratorially, giggles escaping from them every once in a while. The sight made her smile, reminding her of her own sisters. The little boy, Aegon – who had insisted that she call him Egg – sat in between them and his brother Daeron, who was in turn seated besides his father. One of Maekar’s children was missing, Valarr had explained to her when she inquired, but he was off to the Citadel to become a Maester, so he was not likely to attend any family affairs.

Her father-in-law was seated beside her, and her brother-in-law sat to his father's right. She had not seen much of Matarys since her arrival in King’s Landing. The young man had much in common with his cousin, Daeron, as they were both rather quiet and lost in their heads. He seemed kind enough, though, so she imagined he was simply much shyer than his elder brother.

Her own family sat to his right, beginning with her father and continuing with both of her sisters and their lord husbands. Alerie's children had witnessed the ceremony earlier in the day, but their bedtimes had arrived right when it was time for the feast, much to their displeasure.

When everybody had finished their meals, it was time for the newlyweds to take to the dance floor. When his father gave him a slight nod, Valarr gave her a warm smile and stood up from his chair. He held out his hand for her to take, and she took it gladly, allowing him to lead her to the dance floor.

They quickly fell into a pleasant rhythm as other couples slowly started to join them in a waltz. His hand rested delicately on her back, as if he was scared to touch her. Her left hand rested on his broad shoulder as he spun them around the room.

"Are you enjoying the feast, my love?" He asked, leaning down to whisper into her ear, as if it was a secret.

She simply nodded at him, her face radiant with a smile that had hardly left her face the whole evening. Her face felt flushed in the cozy warmth of the hall, but his touch on her waist and her hand burned much hotter.

“I don’t think I can say it enough, but you look absolutely radiant today, my dear.”

She looked at her feet shyly, her face burning at his words.

“Thank you, Valarr. You look quite dashing yourself.”

His eyes glimmered at her again, a blush taking over his face. She was glad to know that their effect on each other was mutual.

After that, it seemed to held each other just a bit closer for the rest of the evening. They continued to dance for what felt like hours. After a while, she got tired of the dancing, so he led her back to the table with his hand in hers.

When they got there, however, Aerion decided it was the opportune time to come and pester them. He walked towards them with a smug look on his face, a sway in his step that made it clear he had had enough wine for at least five men. She saw the resemblance to his drunken brother a bit more at that moment.

"Valarr," he slurred at her husband, though his eyes were fixed on her, "isn't it time for the bedding now?"

Valarr got to his feet quickly, ready to reprimand his cousin. His grandfather, who was still seated next to him, laid a hand on Valarr's arm, stopping him in his tracks.

"No need to rush, boy. I'll let you two go."

King Daeron got up from his chair slowly, therefore urging everybody else in the room to stand up as well, including her. He seemed to have mistaken Valarr's anger at Aerion with his excitement to bed her, which made heat rise to her cheeks. He was also clearly unaware of the animosity between his grandsons, or simply did not care. She silently wondered how the head of the royal family could be so unaware of its inner workings.

"Time for the bedding!" The King called out suddenly, a slight smile on his wrinkled face. The crowd cheered loudly at his words, and lords and ladies alike started approaching them. Fear pooled in her stomach, and she gave Valarr a panicked look.

Clear displeasure crossed his face before he spoke up loudly.

"There will be a consummation, yes, but we will not have a bedding ceremony."

His eyes were pointed at Aerion in particular, who let out an irritated huff.

"What are you so scared of, cousin? Is your cock not big enough to please her?"

A few other lords laughed at his lewd joke, but the severe look on the Young Prince's face kept most of them silent. She was not entirely sure what he meant with that joke, in truth. Her septas had only discussed the basics of her duties with her when it came to the bedding. She only had to lay on the bed and let him do his duty to her, they had told her, and then Gods willing, she would be blessed with heirs of her own.

Whatever the implication of the joke was, though, it made Valarr clench his teeth and ball up his fists. She did not wish them to fight at her wedding. All the Lords and Ladies of the Realm were watching, and while Aerion had very little to lose, Valarr had a reputation and position to uphold as the heir’s heir.

She took a small step towards her husband, grabbing his hand silently to give it a squeeze. His tense posture loosened at her touch, and his angry expression melted into a grateful one when he looked at her in the corner of his eye. She took a step closer to him, wrapping her arm around his while she leaned in to whisper in his ear.

"Do not let him drag you down to his level," she whispered.

He did not respond, though he looked at her with a soft gaze and gave her a thankful nod.

"The feast is over," he announced loudly, "I suggest that everybody returns to your chambers. We will do the same."

A couple people cheered at them, but the majority still stood by silently. Aerion let out a growl, rolling his eyes at them before storming out the door drunkenly. When he finally exited the Great Hall, it felt like everyone in the room let out a breath they didn't know they were holding. After Aerion's departure, the guests started slowly pouring out of the grand doors.

The newlyweds followed quietly, still arm in arm.

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She had grown rather fond of the Young Prince since their meeting. He was always more than cordial towards her, and he had been asking her many questions during their walks. What was her childhood like, what did she enjoy doing the most, what kind of books did she like to read?

His interest intrigued her, as she was not accustomed to this sort of curiosity from her suitors. Usually, they could only find it within themselves to talk her ears off about their own skills and accomplishments, with not a single meaningful question aimed at her. Perhaps it is because he had never truly been her suitor, only her betrothed, but regardless of the reasoning, she much appreciated his curious and kind nature. It filled her chest with an unfamiliar warmth and always managed to bring a smile to her face.

She found it quite hard to believe that, after all these years of dreading her wedding like a death sentence, that she was now… honestly delighted to become his bride. She no longer feared cruel treatment or cold disinterest, as he had already proven to her thoroughly that he was not that kind of man. If she had known it could be like this, she may not have spend all those years in fear of her fate.

"How do you feel about tomorrow, gevie?" He asked gently, pulling her out of her train of thought. She still did not quite know what that word meant, but judging by the gentle smile on his face, she did not imagine it to be an insult.

She smiled up at him and squeezed his arm while replying, "I am still quite nervous, truthfully, but I believe it is the good sort of nerves."

He gave her a thoughtful hum before patting her hand in reassurance. The feeling of his hand on hers always made her feel as though butterflies were trapped in her stomach.

"You are not the only one, my love, I assure you."

He had started calling her that the day after their first heart-to-heart. Even after nearly a week of his near-constant flattery, it had not seized to make her heart flutter and to make heat rise to her face, every time he used such words of affection.

They walked out of the Red Keep arm-in-arm in comfortable silence, while her mind drifted to the upcoming nuptials. What perhaps brought her the most anxiety, was the thought of the near-constant attention on her. Lords from all over the Realm would travel to King's Landing to witness her wedding to Prince Baelor's eldest son. They would undoubtedly judge her every move, and quickly determine that their own daughters might be a much better match for the Young Prince.

Her nerves regarding the inevitable scrutiny seemed to pale in comparison to her fears for the bedding ceremony, however. At every wedding she had attended, it had been the worst part of the night to witness. The Lords, aided by the wine they drank, seemed to lose all propriety at the call for the bedding. The fear in the eyes of her sisters at their own respective weddings had been burned into her mind for all eternity, and it was not an image she could let go of easily.

She contemplated her words for a few moments, wishing to address her growing unease with her Prince. They had walked down the stairs and entered the Great Yard, when she finally found the words. Before she could speak up, however, she saw Prince Aerion approach them, which made her tense up immediately. Her betrothed reacted similarly, stopping them in their tracks while his face became closed-off and his stance defensive.

"Good afternoon, my sweet cousin-to-be," he said smugly to her, ignoring her betrothed by her side completely. He gave her a measured once-over, eyes purposefully lingering on her hips and chest before slowly rising to her face. It did not even appear like he did it out of any particular interest, but merely to rile her – or Valarr – up. Despite her attempt at restraint, knowing he was looking for a reaction, anger rose in her at his vulgar gaze.

"Hello, Your Grace," she said coldly. She could not wait for the wedding to be over, if only so that she could address him by his name instead of his title, as etiquette unfortunately required of her. She would not have him bring her down to his level, no matter how tempting it was.

Ever since Aerion had seen his cousin walking the halls with his betrothed, arm-in-arm with adoring looks on both their faces, he had seemingly made it his mission to make their lives miserable. Two nights past, he had even cornered her after dinner and attempted to interrogate her about her maidenhood, and whether she thought Valarr was enough of a dragon for her.

Her anger had taken over then, and she likely would have been accused of treason by Aerion for the words she wished to speak, had Valarr not spotted them and led her away, a deadly stare aimed at Aerion. Since then, Valarr had made sure to walk her to and from her chambers every time, regardless of the time of day or any further duties he might have. She also noticed that one of the Kingsguards seemed to trail her constantly afterwards.

She had never cursed in front of her betrothed before then, but when they reached her chambers, he was made well-aware of her vocabulary on that front. It had made a broad smile spread across his face, and he had informed her the sailors in the ports might want to learn a curse word or two from her. When she tried to bashfully apologize for her unladylike behavior, he had not allowed her to, simply insisting it amused him greatly and that he was glad she felt comfortable enough around him to speak her mind freely.

After that alteration, Valarr had explained to her that Aerion had an unexplained, deep-rooted hatred for Valarr since childhood. It was likely rooted in his jealousy of Valarr's important position in the family as the second in line, though it seemed Aerion had many more unresolved issues that had very little to do with Valarr. She had nodded solemnly at that. She had been well-aware of his cousin's reputation, after all, which is what had almost scared her over the wall. She would not let Aerion scare her away again.

After her curt acknowledgement of him, she simply continued to stare at him, almost daring him to say anything else. Valarr did the same, fire burning in his eyes at his cousin's presence. When Aerion did not seem go get any further response from either of you, he let out an almost bored sigh and rolled his eyes. That gesture seemed to indicate to Valarr that the conversation was over, and he took a firm hold of her arm again to guide her onward, towards the gardens.

Aerion clearly did not like that, and so he suddenly spoke up again, stepping in their path. "Now, wait just a moment. You know, I was just discussing something with the other knights in the training yard," he gave a pointed look to Valarr, as if to silently mock him for his absence during their manly activities. "Please tell me there will be a proper bedding ceremony tomorrow? Because we would all love nothing more than to–"

Valarr interrupted him before Aerion could finish his vulgar sentence. Anger burned in his veins at Aerion's words.

"Careful, cousin. You are not insulting some squire or servant. You are addressing my soon-to-be wife, and your future Queen. It would be in your own best interest to learn to hold your tongue in the future. Insult her again, and I will have to duel you to defend her honor, and we both know you will not win that fight."

She had never seen Valarr so angry. His tone was harsh and frigid, the threat heavy in the air. Despite their similar statures, it seemed in that moment like Valarr towered over his cousin in pure rage.

She had expected Aerion to lash out, be it physically or verbally, at his cousin's words. She was not sure what it was, but the sight of something or someone behind them seemed to wipe the smirk off of Aerion's face more than Valarr's threat did. She did not dare turn around to see what it was, but she suspected one of King Daeron's sons had made an appearance. She knew that Aerion only behaved himself if his father or sometimes Prince Baelor were present. The notion had amused her when she first heard of it, but now it only came as a silent relief .

Aerion's gaze had gone cold, and he only gave her and Valarr a quick look before silently retreating back to the training yard. His only response seemed to be that his hand hovered over the sword hanging on his hip.

Once Aerion was out of earshot, she let out a small, shaky breath. She was not frightened of him, not truly. She knew him to be cruel and a coward, but he had not yet dared to actually harm a member of the royal family as far as she knew. If he did, even he could not escape the consequences for that, or so she hoped. It was not quite a comfort, but it was enough for now.

At the sound of her shaky breath, Valarr immediately turns to her. He holds both of her hands in his, bringing them to his lips for a quick, comforting kiss. He looks her deep in the eye, worry evident in his gaze as he speaks.

"I am truly sorry you had to witness that, my love. I will personally ensure that he leaves for Summerhall immediately after the wedding. After that, you will scarcely have to see him again. I promise you, he will never harm or insult you again for as long as I live."

She gave him a weak smile, her dismay already leaving her at the sight of his gentle adoration. How did she get so lucky?

"Thank you, m-" he gave a playfully disapproving look before she could even finish saying his title, "Valarr. You have nothing to apologize for. He is a pest, and a disgrace to your family. He craves attention, so he tries to provoke us because we have something he does not."

He eyed her curiously, taking a slight step closer to lean in conspiratorially. "And what would that be, my lady?"

Love, she almost thought, though she pushed the thought away as soon as it arrived. It was a silly thought, and it was much too soon, she knew.

"A happy betrothal," is what she settled on. "Not to mention that you have the approval and love of your father, which he quite clearly lacks. You are everything he wishes he was, but cannot be."

His eyes twinkled brightly at her, as they often did. The affection was clear on his face as he reached out his hand to gently touch her cheek. She leaned into his touch silently, reveling in the warmth of his palm. The blood of the dragon really did run hotter than most, and the early spring air was still touched with a chill, so his touch was a relief.

"You… are far too kind to me, my lady."

"No such thing," she insisted with a smile, "I only speak the truth."

He just continued to gaze at her lovingly, before slowly taking her arm again, urging them on towards their beloved Godswood.

I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Again, I’m working on part 4 and will publish it sometime in the coming days, but starting next week the updates will be less frequent and may stop entirely when I run out of inspiration! (I will also be writing solely on my phone, so if the lay-out suddenly turns to shit, that will be why.)

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