𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞 - 𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐃

𝘼 𝙁𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙎𝙚𝙖𝙩.

"I love you, Aemond. And I'm sorry it took so long for me to realise."

He smiled, not a smirk, a real smile with the corners of his lips tugging upwards greatly. Aemond took her face into his hands, one eye travelling its gaze across her face. "Visenya. My dear Visenya." He whispered.

Without a care in the world, in an old and less popular, corridor of the Red Keep, she joined their lips. 

The prince held her with such conviction, his arm snaked around her waist, kissing her as if she was oxygen and he was regaining breath after being deprived for so long. "I don't want you to wait for me any longer." She told him, a silent request, a plea he couldn't deny.

⚔

"Beautiful."

She slipped her arms into the sleeves of her dress, hiding her face from his compliment. "Could you lace up the back of my gown?" 

He closed his eyes in serenity at the sound of High Valyrian rolling off her tongue before swinging his legs off the bed to do as she requested. Moving platinum blonde hair to the side over her shoulder, Aemond worked at the lace backing of her garment. 

Standing once the dress was nearly tightened, the slightest bit of skin at her nape exposed, he pressed a long kiss to it. Visenya leaned back into his touch, the back of her head hitting his bare chest. "I want you to marry me. I want you to marry me today."

Chuckling at his revelation, she sighed. "That's a difficult request, Aemond."

"Father has requested us all to dine together, we shall marry then. To celebrate your inheritance, and our love." 

She turned to face him, hands trailing his shoulders. "And when do you suggest we announce this proposition?"

"At court, today. After you rid King's Landing of Cregan Stark."

The girl cocked her head. "I will," She took in a deep breath. "end our engagement. The decision of whether or not to leave is up to him."

Aemond nodded. "My wife, my life." He grinned. "Come on, you have places to be."

He pecked Visenya's cheek, then laying a comforting kiss on her forehead.

⚔

The guilt had settled into her bones by the time she reached his chambers, heartbeat accelerating with each knock that occurred.

"Visenya, it's so early, darling." 

She smiled somewhat awkwardly. "Sorry for the interruption."

"No need to apologise. What has happened?"

"The world is a very, very amusing place. But it's also difficult, and confusing." He raised a brow at her words. "You deserve a lady who can fulfill her commitments to the North."

Cregan took a step toward her. "Yes, you."

With teary eyes, Visenya pursed her lips. "No, Cregan. Seven hells." She sniffled. "I can't. I cannot prioritise Winterfell over Dragonstone, Driftmark, over my own father's legacy."

"This is not about your priorities." He stepped back. "This is about him."

She saw no reason to lie. "It is." The man shook his head in disbelief. "You don't understand. We've known each other since we were children, and I suddenly see him after so long and it's inexplicable, Cregan. No words in any language could describe how I feel."