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The first white sunbeams appeared between the slots created by the intricate labyrinth of old buildings, lighting the drunks still sprawled on the ground from the night before, filtering through the gaps of the opened windows. The city was starting to wake up.
Nyla found herself aimlessly wandering around; her steps echoing lightly on the ground, while the crisp air of the early dawn tickled her skin.

She felt deeply confused, almost lost. The night before had been very different from what she expected. She had dreamt of meeting Evin for years. Before his departure she was obsessed with him, the kind of obsession only first love can give. He had been her first kiss, her first time, her first everything. That's what he was. But actually, he was more: he was the last thread connecting her to her family, to the life she still desperately longed for - a life of the past, unreachable, intangible, fixed on the other side of a hard glass.

And yet, when he kissed her the night before, she felt nothing.

At that moment, she had doubted whether she would ever be capable of falling in love again. After her sister's death, she had become numb to everything. For a long time, nothing had really mattered; she was simply waiting for time to pass, to slowly consume her, and eventually kill her.

But then, when she was assigned to work for a young prince with long white locks, something stirred inside her petrified chest. A small crevice had made its way to her forgotten, barren heart. Was it rage? At first, it was rage. But as time passed, there was something else, something creeping through that narrow slit. Compassion, perhaps, or even empathy. Before she realised it, he had become a part of her life. She had somehow come to understand him, his pain and his weakness. She had come to see him as a human. She had started to care for him; affection and attachment had filled her up.

Maybe that was the reason why, after Evin kissed her, all she could think about was Aemond's face.

Feeling remorseful about how things had unfolded between them the day before, she made the decision to return to the Red Keep. After all, there was nothing for her to do in King's Landing, as she assumed Evin would spend the entire day sleeping.

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When she entered Aemond's chambers, he was seated in front of the fireplace, lost in his thoughts. He didn't even turn to acknowledge her presence, so she stood there in silence for a few moments before finally speaking up.

"Your Highness, I've come to clean your room," she couldn't bring herself to call him by his name, as the atmosphere was too cold and off-putting.

He waited a few seconds before replying, his gaze still fixed on the fire. "I thought you weren't coming today," his tone was distant and annoyed.

Nyla felt a twinge of uncertainty, wondering if she had made a mistake by coming there. "Indeed, your Highness. But I resolved my business quicker than expected."

"Oh, I thought you would have preferred to spend more time with your 'friend'," he said, his voice slightly ironic and yet icy.

Nyla's confusion grew with his words, finding his attitude more confounding. The brief discussion they had the day before didn't seem so serious. "Not at all, your Highness. I would be glad to be of use to you."

Silence hung in the air for a few more seconds. He still hadn't looked at her once. "Very well. Another maid has already cleaned the room, though. You may assist me in another way," his voice was carrying a hint of cruelty. "Take the report on the table and read it for me."

She hurried to the table and took the documents in her hands. It was a list of numbers and regiment names. Perplexed, she scanned the report until a particular name caught her attention. The 14th Duskendale Company. That was her brother's regiment.

"What is this?" Nyla's unease grew.

This time, Aemond met her eyes. His gaze was vacant and detached.

"It's a report on the losses of the war in the Step Stones," he answered. "I asked you to read it, not to stare at it," he continued, noticing her silence. "Read it," he asserted.

Nyla felt a knot form in her throat, but she had to comply with his order.

"4th Runestone Troopers, 562 losses out of 1,000 soldiers. 2nd Gull Town Regiment, 347 losses out of 2,000 soldiers. 21 ships lost in an ambush of 70 Triarchy's ships. 12th Claw Isle Regiment, 203 losses out of 700 soldiers in the attack on Bloodstone. 14th Duskendale Company," her voice trembled slightly before continuing. "239 losses out of 250 soldiers... died while fighting in the first lines in the Battle of the Grey Gallows against 15,000 soldiers of the Triarchy-" Nyla's voice trailed off. Her brother hadn't died fighting honorably, he had been sacrificed like a lamb in a battle he could never win to begin with.

"What are you stopping for?" Aemond's voice was sharp as a knife.

"What's the point of sending soldiers into a battle they can't win?"

"What's the point of having soldiers if you don't use them out of fear of losing them?" Aemond retorted.

Nyla left the documents on the table and approached the fireplace where Aemond sat, seemingly unaffected. She was deeply upset, and his behaviour only infuriated her more.

"There's no strategic purpose in such a slaughter," she stated firmly.

"Strategic purpose?" he chuckled. "And what would you know about military strategy?"

Nyla realised he was deliberately mocking her. She felt a surge of anger, deeply wounded and dismissed. Her eyes welled up, not with sadness, but with fury.

Aemond met her gaze, unrelenting. "You can't fight a war without some losses. They're expendable pawns, and not very valuable ones if they perish so easily," Aemond declared with indifference. His words cut through her like a knife. Was his brother deemed nothing more than an 'expendable pawn'? Was he destined to die as a sacrificial lamb for his king?

Nyla's eyes narrowed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "And how many wars have you actually fought, your Highness? Besides the occasional sparring sessions with your sworn knight, of course."

Aemond's tone turned cold as he retorted, "You should hope I never have to engage in war because if I do, everything will burn."

"By everything, do you mean the people and the land you should be protecting?" Nyla's voice carried disbelief and disappointment.

Aemond got up and stepped closer to her, a steely resolve in his eyes. "If it comes to that, I will fight for what my family is entitled to have, for what my mother and brother deserve, for what I deserve, for my revenge. Yes, for that, I would burn them all."

"What you're entitled to have? So you would destroy everything in your path just because you think you deserve your revenge?" Nyla's voice was filled with incredulity.

"Look at the multitude of things you possess!" She raised her arms slightly, pointing to their surroundings. "You have an abundance of food, far more than you could ever consume. You have more clothes than you could ever hope to wear. Your bedroom is larger than most houses." She suppressed a scoff.

"You have maids to serve you, knights to train you, maesters to teach you, and minstrels to sing for you. A multitude of books awaits to captivate and entertain you. You possess enough wealth to acquire anything your heart may desire. You have the largest dragon in the world. What else could you possibly crave?"

Her tone shifted, filled with a mix of frustration and irony. "Is it all because you lost an eye?" She laughed, deliberately belittling his weak point. She wanted to hurt him too. "You have no idea what true loss is. You and your kin simply take and take and take. You burn and destroy and still act like the victims. What do you even know about real victims?"

Taking a step closer to Aemond, Nyla's black eyes shined with bitterness and rage. "You have never seen the little boys starve on the streets, eating soil to fill their barren stomach, so that you and your family can throw away the food that can no longer fit in your replete bellies. You've never witnessed the young girls resorting to prostitution to escape the clutches of starvation, suffering beatings and any kind of perversion under the hands of the same lordly haughty men that roam your court. You have never beheld the mutilated men returning from your wars, the luckiest ones among your 'expendable pawns'."

Her voice hardened, carrying a mix of resentment and frustration. "Do you honestly believe you are entitled to more? In this world, no one is entitled to anything. If you believe you are owed something, it means you already possess an excess beyond necessity! Your feelings of anger and injustice stem not from the suffering you have endured but from a lack of appreciation for the abundance that surrounds you."

Nyla's words hung in the air, the weight of her message settling between them as they stood in silence. The gravity of their contrasting perspectives filled the space, leaving an unspoken tension in their midst.

Nyla realised she had crossed the line.
This time, he will really kill me, she thought. Despite
knowing that it wasn't him her rage was truly directed to, she couldn't help it. She wanted to hurt him. Someone had to pay for how her life had turned out. It's not fair, not fair, not fair, not fair, not fair, not fair, that voice was constantly tormenting her. She had tried her best to forget, to move on, to pretend everything was fine. She had accepted that some people simply have more power and don't really pay for their actions, she had accepted that justice exists only for the ones that have the faculty to exercise it. Or maybe, deep down, she couldn't accept that completely.

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Aemond was stunned. He had deliberately hurt her by bringing up the war in the stepstones as a payback for the night before, but he didn't expect her to speak to him that way, to say such things to him, things she knew would upset him.

He was furious, but deep down, a part of him couldn't deny the truth her words carried. His pride would never let him admit that though.

He stepped back, his face apathetic and his voice cold.
"Never speak like that to me ever again, or I'll have you whipped," he threatened, fully aware he could never bring himself to hurt her like that.

"Who do you even think you are to impart me any moral lesson?" He scoffed. "Don't tell me that simply because I lent you some books now you consider yourself some kind of philosopher." He wanted to humiliate her. "You can read only as long as I give you books to read, you can express your opinion just as long as I ask you for it, you exist as more than a stupid, ignorant, lowly maid, just as long as I give you the opportunity to do so. Outside of this room, you're a nobody." He turned to the window. "Now get out of here."

Aemond heard her steps getting closer to the door, and then the sound of the heavy door closing, as he stood there, wondering how things had turned that way between them.

Was it that hard to get someone's love? Why did all of his affection turn violent?

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Author's note:
Hi guys! Thank you for reading this and for your support <3

I hope you liked this chapter, I really enjoyed writing this. And yes, I love angst if it wasn't clear already :)
But they're not gonna fight forever I promise!!
Next chapter will be a sweet one 🤍🤍

Q: What do you think happened to Nyla's sister?

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