Aerion Targaryen. 14

The Ashford tournament had ended months ago.

And, for the first time, Aerion Targaryen received news he hadn't expected.

—They say a young lord from the North frequents the Stark house a lot.

The prince did not look up from the cup he held in his hands.

—Oh, really?

—That's what they say.

There was a long silence.

Then, with a calmness she hadn't felt before, she asked:

—What is he like?

The gentleman frowned.

-Sorry?

—The lord.

His voice remained firm.

-How is?

The man took a few seconds to respond.

—He is a good warrior… young… they say he is kind.

Aerion let out a low laugh.

One of those that had no humor at all.

-I see.

He stood up, ready to leave.

—My prince…

Aerion stopped without turning around.

—Is she in love with him?

The question hung in the air.

Because, deep down, that was the only answer she was truly afraid to hear.

And for the first time since I met her…

The prince realized that he could win any tournament.

But I couldn't force someone to choose it.