𝐀𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧

The cold evening wind moved through the stone corridors of the castle, and the heavy roar of Vhagar still trembled in the sky — a sign of her rider’s return.

Aemond Targaryen crossed the courtyard with steady, deliberate steps. His dark cloak dragged behind him, and the leather strap over his eye made his face look harsher and more intimidating than ever.

You held a silver tray in your hands — a newly arrived servant in the castle, the daughter of one of the older maids. You were not yet used to the heavy stares of the nobles or the towering stone walls.

Your head was lowered when you suddenly walked straight into him.

The tray trembled. A silver goblet clattered.

Before you could fall, his hand wrapped around your wrist and steadied you. His touch was warm…

Your cheeks flushed as you apologized.

Abruptly, he released your hand. “Be more careful next time.”

And he walked past you.

But from that day on, you always felt his presence.

He was cold toward you. Sometimes found faults for no reason or assigned you the most difficult tasks.

Yet when one of the servants addressed you harshly, his gaze sharpened so intensely that the man immediately fell silent.

When you carried a tray that was too heavy, one of the guards would step forward to help — a guard known to be among his trusted men.

And one night…

You stood on the stone balcony, staring into the darkness. The massive wings of Vhagar echoed once more through the sky.

Moments later, familiar footsteps stopped behind you.

“You should not be here at this hour.” “If anyone harms you…”

He left the sentence unfinished. His jaw tightened.

You looked at him in surprise.

“You are too… fragile for this castle.”

But the truth was, you had become his weakness.

As he walked past you, his fingers brushed gently against yours. It was not an accident.

A prince raised in fire and blood did not want to believe his heart had begun to beat for a simple servant.