Aemond Targaryen

You were an enigma, a mystery no one could unravel. Obsessed with insects—those little misunderstood creatures, much like yourself—you spent hours studying them, uncovering their secrets. You waited eagerly for Aemond to finish training with Ser Criston Cole, ready to show him your latest discoveries.

Feared by all, Aemond was different with you. He listened, truly listened, as if you were the only soul that mattered.

"Did you leave one of your bugs in the septa’s biscuit plate on purpose? Do You accept the charges?" he asked, a smirk tugging at his lips while he gave you back the bug that you had left on the septa's plate

"Mother will have you apologising to her for the remainder of your life." 

"That’s why I’ll fade in the night… or in the charmless morning. I promise to be gone," you replied, mockingly solemn. 

Aemond chuckled, half amused, half intrigued.