Aerion Targaryen. (25)

He pushed open the door to his chambers with more force than necessary.

—He's a savage!

You looked up from the embroidery you were holding in your hands.

—Good afternoon to you too.

Aerion Targaryen began pacing back and forth.

—Did you hear what happened?

—The whole camp is talking about it.

—He hit me!

You bit your lip to keep from smiling.

-I know.

—In front of everyone!

—I know that too.

Aerion slumped into a chair with obvious annoyance.

—And you're not going to say anything?

You looked at him calmly.

—What do you want me to say?

—I don't know… that he was a coward.

—He only punched you once.

Aerion opened his eyes in disbelief.

—Are you on their side?

-No.

You answered calmly.

—But I'm not going to pretend it didn't happen either.

He crossed his arms, annoyed.

—He split my lip.

You approached with a small, damp cloth.

-Let me see.

—I don't need…

-Still.

He huffed, but didn't move.

While you were cleaning the small cut on his lip, he continued to grumble.

—That squire doesn't know who he's messing with.

—He probably does know.

—He's insolent.

—He is also very brave.

Aerion looked at you as if you had just insulted him.

—Are you admiring him?

You couldn't hold back a laugh.

—No. I'm just saying it takes a lot of courage to hit a prince.

He looked away and muttered under his breath:

—I still believe I should have hit him first.

You smiled.

—Are you done complaining?

Aeron paused.

Then he answered with all the seriousness in the world:

-Not yet.

And he went on listing, one by one, all the reasons why, according to him, Duncan was "the most incoherent man in the Seven Kingdoms," while you could barely contain your laughter.