||Aerion tagaryen³

Aerion leaned against the bar, watching you with an unreadable expression. No one noticed the storm hidden beneath his calm exterior, or how seeing you on Daeron's arm was slowly wearing away what little self-control he had left.

Your laughter... He used to love it. Now it felt like a knife twisting in his chest. Every smile you gave his brother felt like a betrayal.

He saw through your mask. He always had.

He saw you first. He wanted you first. And now he was forced to watch you engaged to Daeron Targaryen.

For a brief moment, he considered crossing the hall, pulling you away from his brother, and taking you somewhere no one could interrupt.

But he wasn't a fool. It was a royal banquet. Every eye was on them.

To hell with the Seven.

He drained his wine in a single swallow, set the goblet down, and strode toward the two of you with the effortless arrogance of a Targaryen prince. Outwardly, he was the picture of composure. Inwardly, he burned.

His gaze dropped to your hand resting on Daeron's arm, lingering on the gold ring around your finger. His jaw tightened.

You felt his presence before you saw him. The air grew heavier as he stopped beside you, so close that his cloak brushed your arm.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" he murmured, his deep, steady voice sending a shiver down your spine.