Aerion Targaryen. 2

The banquet is full of people, but Aerion can barely hear the conversations.

Because you're on the other side of the room.

And, as always, he ends up staring at you more than he should.

When he finally finds you alone on a terrace, he approaches with a drink in his hand.

—Are you hiding?

—From some nobles, yes.

Aerion smiles.

—Wise decision.

You laugh.

And for a moment everything is easy.

Just the two of you.

The night wind.

The lights of the castle in the distance.

"Do you know what I heard today?" he asks.

—That depends on who told you.

—An old woman at court assured me that I would soon find a wife.

—My condolences.

Aerion bursts out laughing.

—That's what I thought.

You smile and rest your arms on the railing.

—I'm sure they already have candidates.

-Yeah.

—And are you interested in any of them?

Silence.

Aerion turns the cup between his fingers.

—Only one.

Your heart rate increases slightly.

—Oh, really?

-Yeah.

He looks directly at you.

No joke.

Without arrogance.

—I was thinking that your name sounds quite good with my last name.

You remain motionless.

—Aerion…

-That?

—That was the strangest way of flirting I've ever heard.

He smiles.

Did it work?

You try to hold back your laughter.

You can't.

And when you start to laugh,