Gathered on the edge of his vision, there was a group of noble girls—perhaps a tad under the appropriate age for such a late hour—fanning themselves and giggling, hoping to catch his eye.

They had spent the better part of the evening trying to get his attention, as getting even just one dance from the King’s eldest son was considered an honor. Yet to their great disappointment, he had barely spared them a glance and a nod of respect, and quickly looked away from their low necklines and over-powdered cheeks.

Currently being led with a respectful hand to the waist and gently twirled, the object of Aegon’s affection was dancing with the son of Lord Caswell, and despite his friendship for the young man, Aegon could feel his stomach burn with jealousy.

She was a respectable woman of noble birth, but not a simple lady of the court, waiting in the wings for some advancement or favor. She was a lady-in-waiting to his sister Helaena, and for many years now had had the trust of the King and Queen themselves.

She had even obtained their affection with her disposition and sense of duty. Her father sat on King Viserys’ council, and her brother served in the lower chambers—she would make an ideal match, Aegon knew, but he hadn’t dared suggest it to his father.

Aegon had to admit that his admiration ran deeper than physical attraction, and that over the years of sharing her company, he had slowly but irrevocably fallen for her.

They had occasionally stepped over the line of propriety, with their words and the tense atmosphere of some of their conversations. She was skilled in the art of teasing and didn’t shy away from improper allusions if it allowed her to throw his play on words back at him. He adored her for it, and always wondered if below her playfulness, lied a secret love for him.

He hoped for it dearly, as there was a hunger for her in him, a desperate need to be seen and recognized. He knew that with her affection and her love he could achieve more than he would on his own.

For now, he had to content himself with silent gazes as she danced, occasionally suspecting she was aware of his eyes on her.

As the young Caswell twirled her again, slower this time, she was able to let her eyes roam the Great Hall, once again catching Prince Aegon’s insistent gaze. He hadn’t let her out of his sight for the whole evening, and she didn’t know whether to be flattered or offended.

She knew the reputation the young man had, and the love he had for the fairer sex. Despite her trust in him and genuine friendship, he remained a red-blooded man and she didn’t doubt his frivolous intentions. In his eyes, it probably was a favor, even an honor, to gain the prince’s interest.

She despised how his smile made her shiver, the back of her neck prickling with delight. 

As the night slowly bled into the morning, the last lords and ladies still standing slowly made their way to their chambers, with more or less ease. Where Prince Aegon was concerned, he found himself in such a state that to his great shame, the object of his affection felt that she had to escort him.

“Why do you drink so much, Aegon?” she groaned as she helped him to his bed. He sat at the foot of it, leaning his heavy and spinning head on the bedpost.

“You know why,” he replied wearily, tired of a night of observation rather than enjoyment. He had shared a few dances with her, but eventually had had to allow other young men the pleasure. Such were the ways of court, but he had found he had no desire to dance with anyone else.

As she was aware of the burden on his shoulders, as the king’s eldest son, and could see the sadness gleam in his eyes, she remained for a moment and allowed herself to cross a line. She welcomed him into her arms—as any friend would, she tried to reason with herself—and he rested his head on her shoulder.

Aegon closed his eyes, inebriated by the scent of her; she smelled faintly of perfume and mostly of sweat, and it intoxicated him. He could feel her chest going up and down as she breathed, and he knew that if he were to open his eyes, he would be able to see down the collar of her dress.

Perhaps it was the wine or the early hour after a sleepless night, or perhaps it was years of suppressed desires, but he allowed himself to press a chaste kiss to her shoulder, at the junction of her neck. The contact from his lips to her soft skin made him shudder, and he felt himself swell and harden in his trousers.

“Aegon,” she warned, not unkindly, despite her visible shiver.

“It’s just a kiss,” he slurred.

“To you, maybe,” she sighed as she pulled away, her hands coming to the buttons of his doublet.

He smirked, looking almost victorious as she helped him out of his clothes—she refrained from voicing that she was simply ensuring he wouldn’t suffocate in the heavy fabrics, but she knew that any word she would speak now would be twisted, and she was too tired to tolerate his jests. 

The truth was she hated how frivolous he was, how careless he was with his compliments and touches. She didn’t blame his love for the fairer sex, as it was only natural for a man, but those gestures mattered to her.

She cared about him, valued his friendship and wasn’t entirely opposed to the idea of a courtship. However she knew it wasn’t in his ways, and that he would rather find fleeting pleasure in women, than a life-long companion.

“Stay with me a moment,” he called as she tried to push him back onto the sheets, once he was divested of his doublet, belt and chains, and that his boots had been thrown to the side.

He clung to her and she groaned her frustration at his strength despite his inebriated state, sitting down beside him despite herself.

“I cannot,” she admonished. “It is not proper, people will talk.”

“Let them talk,” he slurred once again, and she hated as much as she adored his condescension for the values and opinions of the Court.

“It might not matter to you what people think of you, but it matters to me,” she replied as she ran a hand through his thick waves—she suspected that a few hours of sleep and some water would erase her moment of weakness from his memory. “I would not have my reputation tainted.”

“Just a moment, please,” he asked again, looking up at her from below his lashes. Laid out as he was on the sheets, the early morning light peeking through the curtains, he looked like an angelic creature rather than a simple prince. 

“Why must you torment me so, my prince,” she sighed, dropping her head in defeat, and as his eyes closed and his breathing deepened, she allowed herself the ultimate weakness—she dipped her head and stole a kiss from the soft skin of his cheek, too close to the corner of his mouth for it to be innocent, then slipped out of his quarters.

The early afternoon brought a splitting headache and a foul taste in his mouth, and yet a triumphant feeling had taken root in his chest—he had faint memories of the end of the night, of his favorite lady walking him to his chambers and cursing him for not walking straight. The memories that followed were far more tender and left a fire in his stomach.

The scent of her was on his sheets, her expensive perfume hanging on the fabrics and in the air, and as he finally dragged himself out of bed and to his dresser, he caught sight of himself in the mirror—there was a trace of her powders on the side of his face, and his mouth split into a grin. He remembered the warmth of her lips on his skin, the tenderness of her hands, and the evidence in front of him served to fill in the blanks.

She returned his affections. She was his, now.

“About this morning,” he whispered in her ear, later at dinner when they gathered around Daeron once again, this time in a more intimate setting. She flushed crimson and threw panicked glances to the side, which only served to delight him more.

“Lower your voice,” she hissed, hiding her blush in her cup. 

She was obviously embarrassed, as any lady worth her station would be. Before Aegon could reassure her that what had taken place would never leave his rooms, she spoke again in frantic whispers. “I have no regrets, but in the name of our friendship, spare me the shame of putting it into words.”

She had hoped Aegon’s inebriated state would have made him forget her indiscretion, but it had not. She had allowed their playfulness to go too far and was now paying the moral consequences.

She had allowed her own heart to be bruised, only because of her own pride—she wanted to prove herself that she could entertain a genuine friendship, and a close one, with Prince Aegon. She wanted to prove to herself that her mind ruled over her heart, and that she would never let something as mundane as girlish infatuation get in the way. 

Despite his promise that he would not speak of it again, Aegon proved himself to be relentless in his acts and gestures in the following weeks, and she found herself to be equally proud. She held onto her pride and refused to be defeated by her own heart—she kept on appearances, pretending to play in the prince’s hand, lest she revealed herself.

Aegon was more perceptive than he let on, and she would have hated for her heart to be revealed by her obvious shame. As long as she maintained the illusion that it had all been a moment of weakness, of friendship gone too far due to the fever of wine, she was certain the prince wouldn’t hold it against her.

As time went by and official functions succeeded one another, Aegon wasted no time showing his favor of her to the Court. He refused on her behalf when other lords asked her for a dance, keeping his hand on her waist a bit lower than a simple dance partner would. He also spent more time in his sister’s quarters, feigning interest for what activities the young ladies were partaking on, and even renounced his love for the drink, as though to never forget a moment spent with her at dinner or banquets.

However, he came to notice that she seemed more reserved now, and shy, blushing at some of his teasing words. Now that their relationship had crossed the boundaries of friendship into courtship, he supposed she allowed herself to take his words at heart. She was delightful, and this newly-discovered side of her pleased him to no end.

Months went on in this fashion, and despite his delight in her and the new intimacy they shared, he was hesitant to approach her. She seemed to avoid being left alone with him and it was torment, as he longed to feel her lips on his again, and to remember it this time. 

All the while Aegon’s behavior was agony for her, and was quickly proving to be her downfall. The prince’s usual playfulness didn’t amuse her so much as it used to, now that she had allowed herself the one indiscretion of stealing a kiss from his cheek. She cursed her own female weakness for not being able to resist the advances—even though they were jests—of a handsome prince.

It wasn’t unusual for him to toy with the courtiers, or even go to great lengths to make other ladies jealous, but his behavior toward her at banquets and balls only served to irritate her further.

It would have amused her in the past, to be whisked away from under the nose of a lord who had hoped for a dance, or to act like lovers to make a lady she detested positively green with envy, but not anymore.

This was why, after a dinner with a few envoys from great houses, where once again Aegon had refused her to a vassal of House Lannister who had hoped to sit at her side and converse with her, she decided she had to put a stop to it. Surely Prince Aegon would see reason.

They slipped out of the dinner hall as liquor was offered and the conversation turned to politics again, rather than frivolities. They knew they would not be missed, and Aegon seemed all the more happy to be pulled away from such topics. She led them to an alcove overseeing a deserted staircase, leaning against a pillar to give herself more confidence.

“Aegon, we must talk,” she said, which immediately seemed to worry him. She took a moment to smile at him, hoping that pursuing this conversation in good friendship would help make her case.

“This toying with the line of propriety, this little game we are caught in… It was fine, when we were children. Now let us be adults, and be frank, for once.”

“I quite agree,” he replied, the crease of his brows smoothing, and she was relieved. Perhaps now, the games would stop and she could nurse her aching heart in peace.

Unaware of the struggles of her heart, Aegon stepped closer, emboldened by her request to leave childhood in the past—she had asked for his frankness, and he was more than happy to comply. She stilled as he stepped into her space, and bracing his hand on the wall, dipped his head to catch her mouth in chaste but firm kiss.

However, as her hand came up to his chest, it wasn’t to tangle in his doublet and pull him closer, as he had hoped, but to shove him away sharply. He had barely had the time to feel the softness of her lips under his that it was being ripped away, and the expression on her face made him feel as though she had struck him rather than simply pushed him.

“How dare you,” she whispered, her tone dark and biting. “Did you not hear what I said? Are you mocking me?”

“I would never—” Aegon answered, but he couldn’t find his breath to utter more than a few words. He didn’t comprehend her reaction, and was terribly sorry for what he had done wrong—perhaps she had wanted more privacy rather than a corridor in the Keep.

“This is cruel, even for you, Aegon,” she cried out, tears rising in her eyes.

“I am not mocking you. You must believe me,” Aegon protested as she tried to push past him and leave.

She turned as he grabbed her by the arm, blinking her tears away, seemingly getting over her shock and regaining her composure. “Do you really think I would fall this low?” she asked, her voice low and cold.

His blood turned to ice in his veins and his heart seemed to stop for a minute, making his chest ache. “Now you are the one being cruel. It has been months since we—” Aegon cried out. “Why wait until now to turn me away?”

“What are you talking about?” she inquired, suddenly as breathless as he was.

“The banquet, for Daeron’s name day,” Aegon said feebly, and saw the understanding dawn on her as her eyes widened and her mouth fell open.

“Did you… Oh Gods,” she gasped. “Did you believe we were courting?”

She would have thought in those circumstances that Aegon would hide behind his pride and occasional cruel humor, but instead he seemed to crumble even more. He relinquished his hold on her arm and tears came to his eyes as he looked away in shame. His lower lip trembled as he murmured an apology, and it only made the ache in her heart sharper.

“Why would you be courting me?” she whispered, stepping closer. It had been years since she had seen him in such a state, so vulnerable and true. 

“Don’t you know? I never lied to you, everything I said, I meant it,” he stated, chin low.

“I thought you were jesting… Playing like you do with the other ladies of the court,” she said, and his sudden confession brought back all the words they had exchanged in the last few months, all the situations where propriety had been put to the side in favor of good humor.

“I was too proud, I didn’t want to give you the satisfaction of caving in, and asking you to stop. I thought it was all a game to you, and I didn’t want to lose.”

“I would never jest with you in this way, you must believe me,” he replied, looking up at her from under his long lashes. “I care too much about you.”

“Care?” she inquired, stepping even closer and raising a hand to his chin, forcing him to face her fully.

“Are you going to make me say it, so that you can reject me once more?” he laughed, but there was no mirth behind it.

“If you truly care then you will make your feelings plain,” she pushed, and she hated herself for it, as she knew Aegon would allow her and inevitably respond to her demands.  

“I love you,” he admitted in a breath, and the way she flushed at his words made him shiver.

Despite his shame, he was utterly entranced; the flush of her face that tinted her cheeks pink as well as the bridge of her nose, and the curve of her lips as it fell open in surprise, all called to him. The desire to kiss her was pounding at his ribcage but he ached with the knowledge that he would be refused.

“Oh, Aegon,” she murmured, and her hand that had been at his chin came to the back of his neck, pulling him into her.

He moaned into the kiss she gave him, closing his eyes against the thoughts that she was perhaps inclined to pity and offering him a kiss to appease his sorrow. Still he melted against her, growing bolder as she wrapped her other arm around his shoulders and allowed him to deepen their embrace.

He turned her around, bringing her back against the stone pillar once more, and she went willingly. She sighed as he curled his tongue around hers, his hands at her waist, and pulled him further into her. Crowding her against the stone, he became desperate, and still she matched his passion.

“Please, give me a chance,” he begged as he pulled away, reeling from their kiss and clinging to hope.

“Don’t you understand?” she asked, breathless, her chest rising and falling quickly. “This game I thought we were playing, it was breaking my heart.”

“Are you saying—”

“I love you, of course I do,” she replied, her hands coming to frame his face, caressing him adoringly as she looked up at him, tender. Aegon sighed his joy in the next kiss they shared, tucked together in the alcove.

Dividers by @saradika-graphics