She watched them like a hawk.

Rhysaenya did not inform them that, given this waiting period before her wedding, she was still going to be evaluating the potential integrity of their arrangement. Everything they did was going to be carefully scrutinized from here until her wedding day. How they spoke to her and to each other, how they treated Helaena, what they did each time they didn't know she was watching.

The first two weeks were fun. She saw Helaena often, went flying with both Aegon and Aemond, sparred with both, and did not let either of them touch her, though they both tried to tease. She would laugh to herself watching their reactions then would return to Helaena's chambers and distract herself with bugs, letting the day's events settle before she thought of it too hard. Before bed, she'd consider it all and see who was ahead in the race towards earning favoritism (because really, there was no way she wouldn't have a favorite) then let her mind fill in the gaps with whatever scenario it wanted.

Then, it became more difficult for them to keep their hands to themselves. Aegon especially wanted to tease her again and it was hard for her to resist. Aemond liked to toy with her and see how far he could take it without breaking her rule— he'd get dangerously close without touching her, as if to intimidate her into caving in.

Aemond was not shy at all about testing this boundary. Sometimes, she had to fight to resist him as she did Aegon, who was always more subtle. Aemond seemed to be toying with the idea of making her submit to his power. The power he believed he had in tenfold the amount she or Aegon did.

For a boy so apparently devoted, he didn't seem to be able to let go. She noticed slowly that Aegon teased him less (well, entirely avoided him, but she supposed that was a start) and yet Aemond remained angry. It got her wondering if Aemond would really try to get more out of Aegon like she'd initially thought, given the wiggle room his brother had allowed for this to begin in the first place.

"You haven't had time to come here since the day you spoke to the both of us," said Aegon as they landed once more on the cliff field. "What's the occasion?"

"I want to ask you thoughtful questions," said Rhysaenya. "Is that alright?"

He shrugged. "Why wouldn't it be?" He sat, legs extended out, feet wiggling. "Go on, then."

She sank down, crossing her legs. "If you weren't a Prince, what would you like to be? I mean, what house, what station, what work?"

He hummed, tapping his hands to the ground. "I have always liked the idea of a warmer climate. I'd like the Reach, I think. Daeron writes about what Oldtown is like and I think I'd like it. I suppose being a Tyrell would be interesting. High enough station that I could more or less do what I please but lower to avoid great responsibility. I would even accept being a vassal if it meant keeping Sunfyre."

She smiled, interested. "Alright. If you had to wield another weapon, what would it be?"

He seemed to like this question. "Oh, I've always wanted to wield a warhammer, but I'm not strong enough. I think it would be unique and still lethal. I could simply—" He mimed the action of slamming people on their heads, "And not worry about anything. What about you?"

"Well, I would like to be good at sword, but I do suppose I would like to see what I could do with a battle ax. I could throw it and still cut like a sword." She drummed her fingertips over her knees, "If you had to pick another dragon, who would it be?"

"Oh, I wouldn't want to abandon Sunfyre. He's the sweetest thing ever. He's like a puppy, only much larger. He understands me more than anyone ever has, you know, he can feel what I feel and he knows exactly what I'm in need of anytime I'm upset. I know I can go to the Dragonpit and immediately have a smile put on my face."

She tilted her head, done with the questions. "You don't feel anyone has ever truly understood you?"

"Well, no. I feel so different from my siblings, I feel I was unwanted by my parents, and in the end I know even my friends are not... the greatest at reading between lines. They think I'm fun and so I remain that way... I do not show differently because it wouldn't matter to them. They wouldn't know what to say or what any of it feels like. Everyone... they expect all these things of me but no one taught me how to do them. They want me to be King but nobody's ever prepared me for that. And why would I want that burden? Why would I take that from someone who deserves it?"

Rhysaenya's brows furrowed, surprised by his honesty. "Aegon, I should hope to be someone you can always talk to, about anything. Doesn't matter what it is."

"I already talk to you about anything," said Aegon. "I speak to you about actual things. Things I never speak to anyone about. I believe I speak to you more than I speak to any other person in the castle. And we don't even really see each other for too long each day. It's been relieving, to say the least."

She smiled encouragingly. "Aegon, you are different from your siblings. You're not meant to be like them in the first place, and on top of this, you are a blend of things. Helaena is always sweet and keeps to what she likes, Aemond is obsessed with the same activities that always prove a point, and Daeron remains bookish and gentle. You, you're funny. You like your dragon and swords but you don't center your life around it. I've seen you ride horses, you're good at that and you can shoot a crossbow from one. You may drink but you like to enjoy what life offers when you're already being given shit. I see variety in you that I don't always recognize in others."

He had a faraway look in his eyes. "I'm not the sort of man you'd normally like, am I? I may be varied but I can't claim to be exceptionally good at anything. I can't speak Valyrian, I couldn't protect you if something were to keep you from your spear. My mother thinks I act like a child."

"Do you believe that about yourself? That you're a child, that you're not worthy simply because you couldn't cut down an entire army alone? I don't have a type at all, Aegon, I've never really had the chance to look at boys or men before I came back. A person's beliefs about you can only affect you if you think there is a semblance of truth to it. I don't think you act like a child nor do I think you less of a man. What do you think?"

He hesitated. "No, I'm not a child. I'm inexperienced but not childish. Less of a man... well, I don't know, I haven't had the opportunity to feel like a man. Nobody gives me responsibility, everyone simply assumes I'll be terrible and laughs." He pressed his hands into fists, pondering, "I could change the way they think. Not only to do better with you, but to show them I can be as much of a challenge as anyone. I could practice sword until I drop. Read more books, speak more High Valyrian. Show them I am no fool. My father may never find me worthy but perhaps my mother would stop looking at me with such disappointment."

"Don't do it for them. Do it for yourself, because it matters to you."

"It should matter to me. A long time ago, I should have thought it mattered." He half-smiled, then hoisted himself to his feet. "Thank you for this, Rhysaenya. Perhaps next time we come out here, I'll be able to say more in our language."

She remained on the grass as he flew away, staring at the departing dragon still glowing in the sun. She hoped for Aegon to at least find passion in this for his own reasons. If he always wanted to please others, he'd always be disappointed. The type of people he wished to make proud of him were the type that expected more than he could give.

Later that day, once she'd helped Helaena catch a particularly stubborn butterfly, she found Aemond polishing his sword and decided to see what his answers were. She sat beside him, polishing her own spear, and waited for him to acknowledge her with a raised brow before she asked, "I want to ask you thoughtful questions. Is that alright?"

He didn't seem as enthusiastic, but said, "Proceed."

"If you weren't a Prince, what would you like to be? I mean, what house, what station, what work?"

He made a face. "Why would I not be a Prince? Why would I not want to be a Prince?"

"Imagine it. That things were different. What would you want to be?"

"A Dornish prince if not one here. The highest station possible to ensure my own authority."

She hummed, questioning, "And if you had to wield another weapon, what would it be?"

This seemed to confuse him more. "I'm skilled with a sword and it is the most applicable weapon here. I can learn other things without giving it up."

"Yes, but pretend! Any other weapon."

"A spear, I suppose, but I wouldn't prefer it. Why do you ask? What would you choose?"

"I'm curious. I'd choose a battle ax."

"You wouldn't fare well in a battlefield with that, you seem more suited to longer-range weapons." He seemed to be losing his patience. "Any other questions?"

"Only one more," she said, unsure if she was going to like what he said. "If you had to pick another dragon, who would it be?"

"Why would I want anyone other than Vhagar? She's a dragon of the Conquest. The largest, the most fearsome. It makes a statement. Why, who would you trade your Skyfall for?"

"I love Skyfall but if I had to pick another, perhaps Meleys because she's larger."

He shrugged it off. "Yet, Meleys is no Vhagar. Do I get to ask you a question now?"

"Yes, you may." She knew he was eager for control, eager to find a reason for this game she was playing. He did not immediately ask it, leaving her to look down at her feet and wait. In an instant, his sword was under her chin, tilting her head up to look at him. Oh, a tease, he always had to win these things. Her eyes met his, and he asked, "How many burns do you have on your back?"

He asked the question as if afraid to ask what they really meant– how many men have you killed? Perhaps it made him insecure to think that she had killed men and he had not. It was not entirely pleasant for her to think back on the memories of the combat training that led to these murders.

"I don't know if you'd like the answer to that," said Rhysaenya honestly. She wasn't sure she knew the answer off the top of her head. Once the lethal bit of her instruction had begun, it varied how many men were thrown at her at a time, how many of them she did or didn't kill, whether each day had a trial or not. The phoenix's magic burned the circles into her flesh after she offered him the blood on her spear for his strength– had she burned herself, perhaps she might have counted.

Aemond gave her a challenging look, still keeping the blade beneath her cheek. It was surprisingly exciting for her. "At least twenty," she said, so as to not overestimate. "It's more like to be thirty. I know I was killing scores of rapers and murderers for at least two months."

His lips quirked up in amusement. He did seem jealous, but also impressed. "I look forward to seeing those marks on your back." He left it at that, drawing back his sword. "Any other questions from you?" He sounded as though he wished she would not ask more.

"I suppose not," she said, his responses overall curious. She was glad, then, that Aegon was to be her husband. In matters of marriage, she'd find more to talk about with him. More to bring comfort. He'd be a good father to their children. If he was chosen to be King... she believed he would be good at it.

Aemond, she thought, was suited perfectly to be a lover. It allowed enough closeness for them to be friends, but also enough distance so that she didn't bite off more than she could chew. His words were venom and it made her want to choke at times. His jealousy, he never wanted to let it up. He thought of the bad always. And yet, how could he not? He was celebrated for being this way and everyone did openly respect him more than Aegon. Everyone had shown Aemond that this was alright.

She worried that his ambition was too great. If she gave him that option, he'd see it as a way to seize power. He could take Aegon out of the picture and keep her for himself.

Aegon, on the other hand, was being as close to a sweetheart as he was probably capable of being. He tried to speak High Valyrian more often when they saw each other. She saw him training with Ser Harrold Westerling in the mornings. He was forcing himself through a stack of his father's history books. She worried it was taking a toll on him; he always looked so exhausted. She hoped this wasn't some poorly-thought out plan solely to get her attention. She hoped he didn't still care what others thought; trying to impress everyone could backfire on him.

She thought of the future, of Aegon potentially being king. She imagined he'd make Aemond his Hand. The three of them, she thought, would make for a powerful trio that could perhaps bring both House Targaryen and House Ignividus to a new age of glory. It made her wonder why she liked the idea of Aegon being king when Rhaenyra was still heir. She hadn't seen Rhaenyra in so long, she wondered if her parents were right about her being a bad choice. Rhaenyra had never seemed very involved in many matters of the court (not that Aegon was). Now, so she heard, Rhaenyra and Daemon were both more occupied with making children than with being here while Viserys was still alive and technically ruling.

Rhysaenya did believe that Daemon's influence was like a disease on Rhaenyra. She'd hardly heard good things about him. If someone like her father thought Daemon a bad man, then he probably could really be one, though it was questionable in the sense her father was no ray of sunshine himself. Still, it made her glad she didn't know him at all. Glad that he'd been supplanted as heir in the first place. She liked the idea of herself as Queen Consort more than she liked the idea of him as King Consort. Perhaps the Realm needed a bit of refreshing after these uneventful years under Viserys.

Could the three of them, she, Aegon, and Aemond, be like the three heads of the dragon? Could this be their destiny? Was she more dragon than phoenix now?

_

The day of her wedding arrived.

Helaena braided her hair beautifully, layers of loose hair beneath clusters of braids as the first Rhaenys had worn. Her mother had given her the dress she was meant to wear, adjusted to have shining gold, green, and red patterns along the skirt, a mixture of houses. Some of the patterns showed dragons, others showed phoenixes.

Her father adjusted over her face the traditional Ignividus veil that Helaena had made, to cover her until Aegon was ready to cloak her and bring her under his protection. Then, the veil was set to fall over her back as if she'd lowered her 'wings' and relaxed in his presence. Helaena's creative mind never ceased to amaze her.

Eilryd and Arrwyth had traveled for the wedding, as had most of House Hightower, including young Daeron. He'd given her a flower for one of her braids, and she'd asked him to pin it where he thought it looked best.

All who'd come to bear witness had marveled at her as Karrhys walked her down the aisle, a tight grip on her arm as if he thought she would escape or as if he wanted to show his pride without words. They passed by where the royal family sat, King Viserys between Queen Alicent and Helaena, looking as though he was barely awake. How they managed to drag him out of his bed for this, she did not understand.

Aegon awaited dressed in a loose black shirt with green and gold thread depicting dragons. His cloak bore the dark red Targaryen sigil, but she noticed at the tips of the dragons' heads that they'd been outlined in green. He smiled at her, accepting her from her father and pulling her in front of the septon.

"Prince Aegon," said the High Septon, "you may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection."

Aegon removed her cloak first, peeling away the golden banner of House Ignividus. He laid it in Karrhys's arms, beckoning him to step away. From his own shoulders he removed his cloak, pinning it over her. He pulled back the veil, smiling once her face was made visible.

"My lords, my ladies," said the High Septon, "Your Grace," He bowed his head to the King, "We stand here in the sight of gods and men to witness the union of man and wife. One flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever. Prince Aegon, Lady Rhysaenya, join your hands."

They stood side by side, hands linked. The septon tied a ribbon around their hands, "Let it be known that Prince Aegon of House Targaryen and Lady Rhysaenya of House Ignividus are one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder. In the Sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity."

He unraveled the ribbon, their hands remaining together. Aegon laced his fingers with hers, turning her to face him as the septon prompted, "Look upon each other and say the words."

Aegon and Rhysaenya spoke as one, "Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger." He continued, "I am hers and she is mine, from this day until the end of my days." Her voice layered over his, "I am his and he is mine, from this day until the end of my days."

"With this kiss," said Aegon, "I pledge my love." He used his free hand to cup her face, dipping down to kiss her.

It felt exactly like in her dreams, which scared her just a bit. How her mind had known the feeling of lips against lips when it had never experienced it, she didn't understand. With her eyes closed, she leaned further into it, until at last Aegon drew away, cheeks red.

Their hands remained linked as they were held there, servants moving quickly to bring in tables for the guests to begin seating themselves. A long one was brought where the altar had been, chairs offered for Aegon and Rhysaenya to sit with their family around them. Helaena immediately close to sit on the other side of Rhysaenya, while Aemond followed her. Aegon was left beside his grandfather, the only one that remained as Queen Alicent and Rhaelyn both helped the guards take Viserys back to his room, as he complained of a headache.

Eilryd was the first to come and greet them, bending the knee in front of Aegon, announced as "Eilryd of House Ignividus, Heir of the Phoenix." He swept forward after his reverence and said, "Congratulations, to the two of you." He gestured behind them, the food brought in, "I have had cooks from the Phoenixfort come with meat from our livestock, the richest in all the Seven Kingdoms. Be sure to leave room for it once you've had some of that pigeon pie."

"Thank you, Eilryd," said Aegon cordially. "I am glad you were able to make it."

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," said Eilryd. "My little sister, married at last." His eyes gleamed mischievously, as if to remind Rhysaenya that this had been in the works for quite some time. As if she would have forgotten it. "May the gods bless you with many children."

"A happy day, Eilryd," she agreed. "And yes, I hope they do." As he left, she got to thinking how important these next several weeks and even months would be for her family. She was young and married to a Targaryen Prince. They'd all be holding their breaths to see if the curse was broken in her line at last. If she conceived, they'd be happy. If she survived childbirth, they'd be overjoyed. And if she was so blessed, they'd need to keep trying and trying– it was important that she birth Aegon a son, but sons had never been hard to come by in the Ignividus line. The real test was her ability to birth a daughter. Their work wasn't over yet.

Though she was tired after the feast and her feet ached from dancing, her heart leapt when Arrwyth yelled that it was time to see the Prince bed his wife. Her brothers and father cleared the way as some of Aegon's friends came forward to scoop her up, carrying her out of the great hall and toward Aegon's apartments. Rhysaenya looked over her shoulder at Aemond, who gave her a slight nod and kept himself seated with Helaena.

"Aegon's a lucky bastard," said one, which made Rhysaenya kick his shoulder.

"Yes, he is," she said, swatting another's hand away when he tried to rip off her cloak. "I can undress myself, thank you very much. The Ignividosi do not like to strip until they've reached the chamber. They don't do bedding ceremonies on Tarth."

A different one laughed, "Aegon did say he would rip her dress off the moment he had a chance. Don't forget that, lads!"

She rolled her eyes, wondering what Aegon saw in these boys. They set her down upon arrival, and she ushered them out as she went to sit herself on Aegon's bed, finding he hadn't been so far behind– several girls of the court had helped to carry him, plopping him down at the entry. The only ones who came to bear witness were those she would have expected– Otto Hightower and her mother.

"Here, darling," said her mother as Ser Otto shut the door. She handed her a small cup murky with herbs. "To ease you." And, presumably, improve my body's receptiveness to him. Her little potions will surely come in handy now.

Rhysaenya drank, grimacing at the taste. "Gods, poor Aegon is going to taste this when he kisses me."

"I'm sure it isn't so bad," said Aegon, throwing back the covers. He saw Rhysaenya's face and hesitated, "Is it?" He reached for his nightstand and offered her some wine. "Here, to wash it away."

She nodded in appreciation and drank. Ser Otto turned away as Aegon began to remove Rhysaenya's cloak, though Rhaelyn kept her eyes on them the entire time, holding her breath as if afraid that she'd miss it. Her mother's stare wasn't cruel for once– she looked almost afraid, as though it might go wrong, as if Rhysaenya might actually suffer. Aegon might've ripped the dress off if they weren't there— she supposed he'd have to do it another time. Instead, he carefully peeled it off of her until she stood bare, yet facing away from him.

She felt a rustle and sensed him removing his own clothes, at which point her mother did turn away. When he was done, he nudged Rhysaenya's shoulder and had her face him, tracing his eyes over her body as she did the same with him.

Aegon offered her a shy smile, and it made her more comfortable in spite of their nakedness. She slid onto the bed and he followed, drawing the sheets completely over them to conceal themselves.

"I'm sure you've heard it's going to hurt," whispered Aegon, body pressed to hers. It felt strange to sense her breasts touching his chest and to have him already grinding against her stomach. Still, not a bad strangeness. "But I'll try to lessen the pain as much as I can. Tell me if it becomes too much."

She gave a silent nod, biting her lip as he slid a hand down her body, tracing his fingertips down her arm, around her breast, down her stomach, in circles over her thigh, until at last he slid them between her legs. He kissed her as he began to warm her up, electricity shot through her body. Her dream had anticipated this exact feeling as well.

"Shh," whispered Aegon in her ear as she began to breathe heavily. "Hold that for me. I'll ask them to leave as soon as I can show your mother something concrete. She'll not step away otherwise. We'll have our privacy."

She nodded and tried her best to hold back, focusing on deepening her breaths to further the relaxation. At last, he seemed to judge her ready, and used his knee to part her legs. He sat up and nearly removed the sheet, but she caught it and let him move her thighs into a better position, having her arch her hips upward.

She watched him run a hand over himself and found the sight unbelievably appealing. He noticed it, and smirked before leaning over and pressing himself against her. "Brace yourself," he said. "I'll try to be gentle."

The pain was unbearable for the first few seconds, and she scrunched up her face trying to calm herself. Aegon ran his knuckles gently over her face and kept still until she nodded, the process repeating until at last, he'd gone far enough in that he poked his head out of the sheets. Rhysaenya saw her mother approach, and Aegon lifted the sheet enough for her to see proof.

"Now, both of you, leave," he requested. They heard the footsteps depart and Aegon did away with the sheet, sighing in relief. "How do you feel?"

"It hurts, but I suppose it's worse to be cut in the yard," she said, sitting back on her elbows. "I've been beat bloody a hundred-fold times by now, this is preferable."

He smirked, "Bet it hurt me more when you used to beat me for sport."

"Oh, come off it, Aegon!" she pleaded, thinking she ought to kick him away. "Are you going to fuck me or not? We've both been waiting four months for this."

He leaned over, unmoving. "Kessa, kessan. Kesa tepagon ao aōha dyse prūmia." (T: Yes, I will. I will give you your heart's desire.) It made her beam to hear him speak it more confidently. "That's all I memorized," he admitted. "As best as possible."

"That was very sweet, Aegon," she whispered, kissing him again. "Thank you."

He tucked his head against her shoulder, kissing her neck. He pulled both of her legs to wrap around his waist, arching her hips to a more comfortable level before he began to rock slowly back and forth. She made no effort to hide her noises anymore, finding the pain had dampened significantly. Maybe it was the wine or her mother's little concoction, maybe it was Aegon that brought her more comfort than she expected. She'd thought he'd be like a wild animal the moment she took her clothes off and instead he seemed to be restraining himself.

She beckoned him not to hold back so much after about a minute, once she'd fully acclimatized to the feeling. Aegon lifted himself up to look her in the eyes as he began to move with more force, making her arch her neck back in enjoyment. Little by little he increased both the speed and the pressure, until at last she couldn't stop herself from shouting out in pleasure. Even he'd begun to make noise, and she thought it the most perfect thing she'd ever heard.

"How long does this last?" she asked, once he withdrew and beckoned her to turn onto her stomach. "Hours?"

"Hours?" He started to laugh, leaning over and kissing her shoulder. "Gods, I don't know any man who can go continuously for hours. It may be hours with moments of rest between— many long moments. Don't worry. I'm nearly there. Then, the focus will be on you."

Rhysaenya teased, "Nearly there and you chose to turn me away from you? I'm hurt."

"Ideally, I'd finish with you riding me, but we're not quite at that point. You might feel overwhelmed if we try it. Believe me, for now you're going to like this way better."

He held the back of her neck as he connected them again, then gave her hair a sharp tug at the scalp as he began to move. Her shrieks of delight mounted as expected, and she leaned back into him, turning her head so she could capture the sound of his groans. Gods, she wished he'd never stop doing that.

He let go of her hair after a short while, once he estimated she could hold herself up. He wrapped the hand around her waist and began to rub between her legs again, which made her sense her thighs losing feeling. Finally, he pushed her head into the pillows and pulled her tight against him, making the most heavenly of noises. She felt him withdraw after a few seconds and had barely lifted her head, ears buzzing, when she felt him pull her back. To her surprise, he'd sat her over his face.

She reached for his hair, feeling as though she might tear up as her mind began to blur, crying out profanities between his name as he seemed to speak between her legs. She breathed and breathed trying to help herself not faint, and at last felt a cloud forming in her head. For a moment nothing made sense and she felt every last fiber of her body warm and tingly. She collapsed forward and Aegon shot up like an arrow, leaning over her and grinning.

"A point to you," she admitted tiredly. "More experience does indeed make a difference."

"Told you." He kissed the top of her head. "Gods, that was magnificent. I don't think I've ever felt so good fucking a woman."

She rolled her eyes playfully. "Well, they say Ignividosi women are a rare commodity for a reason." She beckoned him back for a kiss. "I believe you and I are going to be happy together, Aegon."

"As do I," he said. "Would you like me to stay while Aemond is here? I think perhaps the sharing should begin after you see what we're both like, but I can keep you company if you'd like."

"I think the same as you," she admitted, not sure if it was wise to put them together and competing over her when she still didn't know what sort of man Aemond was in bed. So far, Aegon was much like he was outside of his chambers. "Though, we are in your chambers. I can't very well demand you to leave."

"Don't worry," said Aegon. "I'll explore the tunnels for a bit; Aemond's a cunt for never giving me a tour of them. That way any sounds of pleasure you make will still be attributed to me."

She grinned, "Alright. Will you return afterwards?"

"Perhaps," he said. "If you're not too tired. But I may go and drink with my friends if it's alright with you. We usually do at this hour."

She shrugged, "Whatever you'd like. Though, if you drink at the Street of Silk, at least wait for it to quiet down here before you go. I don't want you spotted there while someone else was listening to me shrieking here."

He nodded, kissing her again. "Enjoy, my lady. If anything, I will see you on the morrow."

He waited for Aemond to pop open the wall before they traded places. Rhysaenya sat up in the bed, still catching her breath and holding the sheets up to cover herself.

"You know," said Aemond, "it is said Alyssa Targaryen's cries were heard all the way to Duskendale on the night she married Baelon." He began to unbutton his shirt, "I think yours were heard at least to Maidenpool."

"And let me guess," posed Rhysaenya sweetly, "you intend mine with you to be heard to Harrenhal?"

He seemed to like this. "Perhaps. Are you in pain?"

"No."

"Good." He slipped off his shirt, then slowly removed his eyepatch. Beneath, she saw a sapphire, glowing beneath the candles.

"Blue," she noticed, Helaena's strange words about visions distracting her for a bit. "Why blue?"

"I tried others and liked this best," he said, removing his trousers slowly, knowing very well she was drinking it all in. "Emerald did not excite me, rubies were too strange. A sapphire shines perfectly in the moonlight. I enjoy the darkness more than the daylight."

Rhysaenya shamelessly stared down at his groin, words lost as he strode over. "Did Aegon place you on your knees?" asked Aemond. She was hardly paying attention– she'd never seen men so bare as she saw the princes today. He and Aegon were both hand-made by the gods, she was sure of it. She preferred men who looked lean yet still capable of tossing her over their shoulders and they both looked the part.

"No," she said. "But it may have been because your grandfather and my mother were here."

His lips twitched. "Good. Come here."

He made her feel much shyer than Aegon. Slowly, she crawled out from under the sheets, feeling like she ought to have covered herself as she stood before him. He uncrossed her arms and placed his palms directly over her breasts first, then slid them down her back– carefully feeling over the circles that emerged from her flesh– and ending with cupping her bottom. He took the moment to kiss her, capturing her mouth in his and snaking one hand into her hair.

She was caught by surprise when he suddenly pushed her down, having her kneel in front of him. He looked so powerful standing over her, exactly the sort of thing she might think of a King. Yet the fate would not be his. "You're all warmed up, aren't you?" said Aemond. "I'd like to feel the same. Open."

She stared up and popped her mouth open, letting him do as he pleased. It's what she might have expected of Aegon, who experienced whores on the Street of Silk taking his member into their mouths constantly. From Aemond it was a surprise. She did her best to focus on her breathing, which was difficult to do when he began to groan. It sounded as lovely as when Aegon did it, only his seemed more desperate. She doubted she'd be kneeling in front of him for long.

As predicted, he drew away abruptly, leaving her to gasp for air. He laid her down and kept himself at the edge of the bed, lifting her legs onto his shoulders before plunging into her with little warning. She gripped the sheets beneath her and couldn't contain her cries as he began to move more brusquely than Aegon had.

He held her throat the entire time, squeezing each time she paused her screams. "You are perfection," he said, voice so low it almost sounded like a sneer. "I don't care that Aegon got you first— I hope my seed will be the one that takes." When she only moaned in response, he squeezed and beckoned, "You wish for the same, don't you?"

She wondered if Aegon had actually gone down to explore the tunnels or if he was listening outside. She only whispered for his pleasure, "I hope you're the father of my child."

"Louder," he said, but she shook her head. "No? Why not?"

"I can't shout that," she said, teeth beginning to chatter. "Why— why would I say that to Aegon? Everyone thinks I'm with him."

"If you won't shout it, then you'll say it clearly. Tell me." He raised a brow, baring his teeth and slowing down, "Tell me."

She repeated, whining and smacking at his side to beckon him to keep moving. "I hope you're the father of my child."

"Good. But I find I still want you to shout. Something you would say to Aegon... hmm..." He leaned down to whisper in her ear, "Shout that you want me to fuck a child into you."

Rhysaenya's stomach did a flip, still wondering if Aegon was outside. Aemond seemed to understand her hesitation and withdrew, laying himself on the bed. She figured she was in the clear and listened as he beckoned her to ride him, which made her think of how Aegon would have done that, had it not been her first time. Aemond surely assumed she would learn quickly– she had learned everything quickly in all other respects.

He guided her in hovering over him and moved her until she was in the right position. As she began to rock her hips, he gripped her bottom tight and moved her as he preferred, slow and steady at first. Then, he seemed to grow frustrated with the lack of intensity and moved her forward, bucking his hips at his own pace.

She saw stars and showed no hesitation in crying out directly into his ear. She would've screamed his name if she wasn't sure there were people listening outside the door. "Shout it now," he demanded in her ear. "Now, or I stop."

The pleasure was too great and she gave in, "Gods, yes, I want you to fuck a child into me." She dropped her voice, gasping, "Don't stop, Aemond, please."

He stopped regardless, and she was about to complain when she felt him twitch inside her, legs shuddering and breath faltering. It seemed her words had affected him more than he expected.

"Fuck," he complained, as if it was her fault his own force of mind was weakened at the sound of his name. "I couldn't stop myself."

"Too excited?" she teased wearily. She made to climb off, but he held her on, rolling them to the side and continuing to move his hips. "Aemond, aren't you tired?"

"Yes," he said. "But I'm going to ensure none of my seed is wasted. I meant what I said. You are mine, Rhysaenya. All mine. Doesn't matter who history will recall as your husband. The truth will inevitably be that every single one of your heirs will be my children."

She thought that one in House Ignividus would ever find that odd.