For almost her entire life, Daella Targaryen has lived as Mellara Rivers, the bastard daughter of Arnold Arryn and cupbearer of Lady Jeyne Arryn. First and trueborn daughter of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, Daella had but slight contact with her fami...
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T H I R T Y - T H R E E , A E M O N D
Girl, you really got a hold on me ─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Aemond sat up straight, his gaze forward and not directed at any particular member of his council. The boring droning of Lord Jasper Wylde, his Master of Laws, about the need to implement harder punishments on those who dared to break minor laws had faded to a barely noticeable background noise and Aemond only let out an occasional hum when it was expected of him. His thoughts were where they specifically shouldn't be, for he knew that once he started thinking about her, it would be awfully difficult to stop.
He was pondering the woman he would soon take as his wife, a moment he longed for. He would never admit it out loud, knowing that Daella would not accept his flattery and mistake it for something ingenuine, but he could not wait for the day when he could officially call her his wife. There would be no more need for secret meetings in the hidden passageways of the Red Keep, nor for the snide and witty comments they exchanged often.
As his grandsire replied to one of the comments made by the Master of Laws, Aemond's thoughts shifted to a particularly long night a couple of weeks back, when he had led Daella into the den of the Red Priest, or rather, the blood mage. Though Aemond had no doubt that Daella was certain that the red-eyed man, who had granted her that stupid book about Old Valyrian fertility rituals, was a mere servant of the Lord of Light, he knew better. Similarly, Daella thought that the price for the book had been her blood, but he knew that it was only a ploy, installed by no one else than himself.
Often times he lay awake at night, wondering if he should have done what he had, but there was no going back now. Besides, Aemond strongly doubted that the spell had worked at all, for he had heard no incredible stories from Daella yet. Neither had she told him what he needed to do to earn her undying loyalty and he felt it was a waste that all of it should go to her mother, his half-sister, when Aemond was of the strong opinion that Rhaenyra did not even deserve a speck of it.
"I do not see the need nor the necessity to talk about a possible response from my half-sister, Rhaenyra," Aemond said, his eye flickering to Lord Jason Lannister. He glanced at the six other men in the room, pleased at the guilty expressions on their faces at the fact that they had taken his lack of response for a lack of attention. "While she may brood, mock and send empty threats from her seat at Dragonstone, I am sitting the Iron Throne, King of the Seven Kingdoms."
"She claims that you have usurped her throne, my King," Jasper Wylde said. "It is a false and despicable notion, of course, but we might expect some retaliation from her and the traitors who remain loyal to her. It is merely a precaution."
