Cold water soothed her.

She washed her face in the Dragonpit before taking the carriage back to the Red Keep. Rhysaenya could not believe such a thing had happened, that such a thing could get her so flustered. She'd been back only a day and already she did not know how she'd survive four months of anticipation. No, she had to forget them, she had to not think about them, lest they drive her mad.

She made a beeline for Helaena's room, skipping steps until she finally arrived, her dear friend sewing golden lines onto a green cloak.

"Rhysaenya," said Helaena happily. "You've come to see me."

"Every day, I will come to see you," said Rhysaenya. "As when we were little." She sat beside Helaena, nodding in greeting. "What are you making?"

"Something I saw in a dream," said Helaena. "I'm not sure what yet, I've only just started." She stopped what she was doing, smiling and deciding, "I can work on this later. Tell me, what was the Phoenixfort like?"

Rhysaenya grimaced. "Lonely, more than anything. And cold, contrary to what one would believe knowing a phoenix is housed there. My mother keeps the castle very clean. Skyfall liked Tarth enough for flying, but I wished so often to come back here and see you again. What have you been up to?"

Helaena shrugged, "I do as I please, no one prohibits it. My hair is braided in the early morning, I examine my little friends after breakfast, I sew and read in the afternoon, sometimes I'll visit Dreamfyre, and in the evenings my mother and Aemond come to see me."

"I'm glad Aemond still visits you," said Rhysaenya. "What about Daeron? Is he well?"

"He's well. He writes to me often— I receive a raven from him every week. He tells me what he does and in response I tell him about the more interesting dreams I have. It gives him something to think about and inspiration for his books. He is still very bright. I only wish he would visit."

Rhysaenya nodded sympathetically. "Have you ever thought of going to Oldtown to see him? If you wanted, we could go. I'll lead the way on Skyfall."

Helaena shook her head quickly. "No, I would feel upset without my routine, without my insects. I do not wish to fly to Oldtown. It is alright, Rhysaenya, I see him in my dreams. I watched him grow. Him and his blue dragon."

"A beautiful sight, I imagine." She sighed, wishing that Daeron would take it upon himself to come. Or, perhaps, that Queen Alicent or King Viserys would summon him. Did they not wish to see their son at all? She made a point to ask that he be present at her wedding. "Your hair looks very healthy, Helaena. You've always kept it so beautiful."

She smiled, tilting her head shyly. "Thank you. It's the plants. Some days I go in the garden to remember you. I learned which are helpful... I tried to help Aemond but he did not want to be helped." She sighed, grabbing at her hoop and returning to her sewing. "I don't believe he will heal within. He remains troubled. And he will be more troubled now that you are here."

She frowned. "You believe so?"

"I've seen it. Aegon and Aemond, upset at each other. You watch them, you become upset. But it is not your fault. There are other things I see, things I don't understand. A flash of red, a blue glow, a storm. I hear screams and the slashing of swords. Cries begging for mercy and trees falling." She shivered, then grabbed Rhysaenya's hand abruptly, catching her off-guard. "Aemond will bring the rats. That is all I know."

"The rats," repeated Rhysaenya, trying to understand what this might mean. "The rats..." She tried to think of any texts with metaphors to rats but came up empty. Red, blue, what did those colors matter? Lust and sadness or anger and solitude?

"Yes," said Helaena, adding no further detail. She let go of Rhysaenya. "I wish I could understand it better, after all this time. But it escapes me."

"You were given a rare and magnificent gift," surmised Rhysaenya. "But it does not come without consequence. Perhaps you'd have been too powerful if you could see it all clearly. You'd obsess over changing the course of things and much of it would still be inevitable. You'd wish to save us all from gruesome fates because you have a kind heart and watching it all happen anyway would drive you mad."

"They say I'm already mad," mumbled Helaena, toying with the thread. "My handmaidens, I can see they find me strange. I rarely leave my apartment now because I feel the stares of those I don't know and don't understand."

"People judge things without trying to see it differently. They're selfish and stupid. You are not mad, Helaena. You're the most normal of all of us because instead of focusing on anger, on pleasure, on material things, you appreciate life as it comes to you. You treat every creature gently while the rest of us have tempers that overtake us."

"You are a good person, Rhysaenya," said Helaena. "I only regret all that you will suffer because of it. The fire will never cease to burn. You did not choose it but it selected you as its constant victim."

Rhysaenya swallowed hard, holding back comments of confusion. "I hope to remain a good person, in spite of that. I could not live with myself if I became... awful."

"You become what you need to become in order to survive. But you always have your choice. Don't forget your shell."

She smiled weakly, recalling their conversation so long ago. "I'm glad to be back here with you, Helaena. You always know how to make me feel better."

"I cannot claim to know, truly," she admitted. "But it comes easy to comfort. Especially with you. You're the only friend I've ever had. I know you well enough to understand what I must say to you." Her fingers twitched, and she let go of her hoop once more. "This cloak. I see it now. It's for you."

"For me?"

"Yes." She traced her fingertips over the thread she'd already stitched in, careful loops like dragon scales along the hem. "It'll be a cloak for you to use. Whenever I finish it." She shrugged, "I've no idea when that'll be. You'll be the first to know."

Something about the way she caressed the thread, almost as if she was saying goodbye to it, unnerved Rhysaenya.

_

Her father was waiting in the yard.

Rhysaenya sat with Helaena for a bit longer, to check in on her growing bug collection (it had expanded immensely over the course of nine years) and walk with her through the gardens. They'd caught two more beetles and given them a home with the other friends before Rhysaenya remembered that Aemond would be showing off for her father.

By the time she skidded to the rampart overlooking the yard, her father had already arrived. "I was told you'd be here," he said, lips curling. "Aemond said you wished to evaluate him."

"I don't believe I used those exact words," she said. "But it is important regardless that I see the strength of the family I will marry into. Aemond is the best fighter of all."

"So they say," said Karrhys. "Let us see if he comes anywhere close to your brothers." He glanced around and lowered his voice. "You know that if he proves stronger than Aegon in more ways than this, he will be a better sire for your heirs."

"I've considered that," she said blandly to avoid the conversation. She was making those plans herself. She didn't want his input, or even her mother's.

The two looked down at Aemond, already there with Ser Criston Cole while the other knights and servants watched. Ser Criston had laid out weapons for himself to use against Aemond— a sword, a mace and chain, even a warhammer. Clearly, Aemond wanted to make a supreme test of his skill today.

Ser Criston chose the sword first, the most standard weapon for their duel. Rhysaenya leaned over the ramparts, eyes narrowed and scrutinizing. Aemond slid around as if he were dancing. Each strike was carefully calculated, each dodge was fluid and carried his momentum for the next move. Ser Criston Cole, for all his experience, could scarcely keep up with him. Aemond had adapted well for a man with half his vision obstructed. He shifted precisely on the balls of his feet, like a cat ready to land perfectly no matter where it jumped. It was as if the loss of his eye had allowed him to sense where everyone was relative to him, as if the lack of sight magnified his perception of sound around him.

At last he emerged victorious, disarming Ser Criston entirely, the sword flung into the nearest wall. The other knights clapped, including some that'd accompanied their house from the Phoenixfort. They especially knew a good warrior when they saw one.

"You know, Ser Criston once unhorsed Prince Daemon," said Karrhys. "The Heir's Tourney, the year Queen Aemma died. Daemon had to yield in the end."

"You didn't participate in the tourney?" asked Rhysaenya curiously as Ser Criston moved onto the warhammer.

Karrhys's expression seemed offended. "A tourney, me? No man of House Ignividus has ever participated in a stupid tourney. It is beneath us. Any man can get lucky and unhorse another but not everyone can survive the combat that ensues afterwards. We proved long ago that we were superior in strength to all other men of the Seven Kingdoms. I have never found tourneys entertaining and, that year, I was more preoccupied with ensuring your brothers didn't lose a single moment of practice even if we were traveling."

Rhysaenya imagined Karrhys would've been at an unfair advantage if he'd tried to tilt against other men. A large man already on the ground, even larger on a horse. She glanced back down at Aemond, who was having no trouble dodging the warhammer. As hard as Ser Criston swiped, Aemond still leapt away gracefully and retained his footing, using his shield to catch the blunt edge of the hammer and push forward until he had his sword against the knight's throat.

Karrhys hummed, "It is said Prince Higaal preferred a warhammer to Backbiter. He gave Backbiter to his son Ritzli and niece Eitzali when they married. That warhammer disappeared sometime during the Conquest. Agrazos Ignividus buried it when Rhaenys was killed in Dorne, a symbol he could not bear to fight once she was gone. He dug it up when he went to Driftmark to protect Alyssa, Jaehaerys, and Alysanne after Maegor seized the throne. He was willing to die to see Rhaenys's line continue to rule. You know, he is the only Ignividus to die of old age. Every other one has died either in childbirth, in battle, or because of the consequences of battle."

Rhysaenya tilted her head. "Where do you hope to die?"

He gave her a hard look. If she were still nine years old, she would have been afraid to have him glaring down at her. Now, she knew it meant one thing: the only right answer for an Ignividus was to die on the battlefield. Rhysaenya wondered if she'd survive childbirth, if she'd ever see a true battlefield, if the curse would follow her or if she was finally going to be free to die on her own terms and see her children grow up.

At last, Ser Criston had moved onto the mace and chain. Aemond had a bit more trouble with this one, having to keep a greater distance to avoid being hit. Ser Criston was strong enough to slam the spiked ball hard into the ground, blowing dirt in their faces and nearly stabbing Aemond's foot. At one point, his shield had to be tossed aside because it was weighing him down as he tried to avoid being cut.

Then, finally, Aemond caught a perfect rhythm and ducked in after a swing, striding far around Ser Criston but close enough to put the blade beneath his chin. Rhysaenya glanced at her father, who narrowed his eyes. That either meant Aemond hadn't impressed him at all or had impressed him more than he expected. There was no in-between.

Aemond turned his gaze up, immediately smoothing his hair back when he saw Karrhys and Rhysaenya. The way he looked at them, it was as if he wanted it to seem like he hadn't been expecting them there. "Lord Karrhys," he said cordially. "Lady Rhysaenya."

"You've done well, Prince Aemond," said Karrhys. "Though, I see a spear has not been used against you."

"Forgive me, my lord," said Ser Criston, wiping the sweat off his brow, "I am no master of the spear."

Karrhys's eyes seemed to darken even in the sunlight, and Rhysaenya worried he was going to challenge Aemond the way he did his children. Some days, she watched him test Eilryd and Arrwyth out of nowhere. Them, he was much rougher with. If they failed, he snarled in their faces. If they improved, he rewarded them with silence.

"Rhysaenya will spar with you once you've had a moment to rest," offered Karrhys. "She and I have work to do now that you've earned a calm breath."

Rhysaenya would've expected Aemond to be disappointed that Karrhys himself would not spar against him, but he didn't seem to mind. Karrhys led the way down to the yard, revealing to Rhysaenya he'd had Ignividosi weapons stored in a large wooden box at the base of the steps. He popped it open, offering her his spear and taking his.

"You've dueled against swords," said Karrhys, setting Backbiter down. "Against myself, against Eilryd. You've killed men by now, he has not. Do not disappoint me."

"I've trained for nine years, Father," whispered Rhysaenya. "He's trained for more than ten. Killer or not–"

"Who here is Ignividosi? You, or him?"

She accepted that once more, failure was not an option. Better to make Karrhys proud than to anger him. With a slight nod, she stepped to the side, beginning her warm-ups while Aemond went to fetch some water.

She did several stretches before beginning her throws, tossing the spear at targets set up for archers. Then, her father stepped forward to begin her basic drills, practicing sharp and precise twirls before they moved onto sparring.

Aemond was back by the time they began. Some of their Ignividosi knights were beckoned forward by Karrhys to practice with her using their spears, back and forth individually, in pairs, and in trios. Rhysaenya knocked them aside with ease, used to a much stronger defense from her brothers.

Back on Tarth, there was a claim that Caytell's line hadn't inherited the same strength as the original Ignividus offspring. There would one day come a point when these men would no longer pose any challenge to her whatsoever. At least now, she still had to plan ahead and take her time with the duels. Eventually, she'd be knocking them aside in a matter of seconds and rendering her practices very short. She was heading quickly down that path, subduing these and making room for her father to make his attack. She could kill men, and one day, she would be able to kill any man at any time.

It would be humiliating to be knocked down in front of Aemond, and did her best to stand her ground. If Karrhys hit hard enough for her to stumble, she'd fight to skid against the ground instead and maintain her footing. If he swung at her legs, she'd leap out of the way and lose her advantage rather than crash into the dirt.

Finally, she managed to twirl her spear over her shoulder and dive toward Karrhys, the blade against his heart as he pressed his onto the back of her knee. In a real battle, he might've maimed her, but she would have killed him.

His dark eyes narrowed once more and he stepped back, nodding. "Well, I'll leave you to it," he said, nodding to Aemond. "Make our family proud."

Aemond approached leisurely, hands tucked behind his back once Karrhys had returned to the ramparts. "Ao victu sȳrī catn tolie hastis. Adu skorkydoso kessa gaomā catn iā egros?" (T: You fare well against other spears. Yet how will you do against a sword?)

She turned on her heel, raising a brow. "Eman ellum catn korzoti. Lī migas māzigon tolvie tolie tubis. Issi ao dutans nyke, Dārilaros Aemond?" (T: I have dueled against swords. Those trainers duel with me every day. Are you doubting me, Prince Aemond?)

He smirked, unsheathing his sword. "A contest, then. Let us see who your father judges to be the better fighter."

"You take me at a disadvantage from how tired I am," said Rhysaenya, lifting her spear. "Yet my father gave you time to rest... I think you ought to read into that. It sounds as though he believes that even on my worst day I could defeat you."

"Believe whatever you wish," said Aemond with a shrug.

"Oh, I will," she retorted. "I look forward to knocking you on your arse, my Prince."

They centered themselves in the yard, Karrhys and Ser Criston together on the ramparts, their knights making a circle to mark where they could move. Aemond and Rhysaenya began to circle each other, assessing the other's movements, until at last Aemond made the first attack. She blocked his first two hits then leapt out of the way before he could strike low, slamming the spear down and knocking him off-balance. She swung the spear and nearly managed to hit him on the head, though he was fast enough to shield himself and shove her backwards.

It was much easier to handle him now that she'd grown used to men several inches taller than him. Stronger than him, too, and especially heavy-footed. His blows felt weak and it allowed her to hold her footing as she decided to start her own attacks. She moved fast on her feet, but he was about as quick and balanced, so it didn't yet make much difference. Aemond was proving a fun challenge.

In one swift move, he managed to strike at the ground in front of her. She slipped, falling to one knee and lifting the spear to block his sword. He pressed with more force and she was leaned back even as she tried to move him aside. She fell completely to the ground, the shaft against her throat and Aemond's sword over it, threatening to cut it in half and slice open her neck.

She gritted her teeth, hands clamped tight over the shaft as she tried to keep the spear steady, refusing to have Karrhys see her fail. Aemond was breathing heavily as he loomed over her, his one eye scanning her face and wondering if she'd let up. She could see him staring at her neck, watching it pulsate, and she felt his body move closer, settled between her knees as she tried pressing into her feet to keep him at a distance. It wasn't a duel anymore, it was a game of chicken and he seemingly wanted to see if she'd tolerate him being on top of her as if they were tangled beneath bedsheets.

She dropped her knees to the side, wrapping them around his legs and tucking them in hard to hoist herself up and simultaneously toss him back, allowing herself to be freed of his trap. The moment he moved his sword, she unwrapped her legs, planted her feet down, and shot up with the spear still in hand, almost hitting him in the nose. She kneed him hard in the stomach, Aemond making no further efforts against her as she tucked the tip of her spear under his chin.

"Do you yield?" she asked, panting heavily.

He nodded, lips curled. "Lēda aōha crura involt cricm nyke, nyke poes daor nyam gestur va bisa vīlībagon." (T: With your legs wrapped around me, I could no longer carry on this fight.)

The audacity he had to say such a thing with people around, not knowing if her guards spoke High Valyrian. It both frustrated and amused her, and she was glad her father was too far to hear.

She replied curtly, "Nyke confer ao, kesan daor sagon dulga aōha phasta arlī." (T: I assure you, I won't be indulging your fantasies again.)

He gave her a curious look, as if wishing to challenge this. He said nothing, however, as Karrhys strode back down, a smug look on his face. "A good show, Prince Aemond," he said. "You are certainly not the first man to underestimate an Ignividosi."

"Nor will I be the last, it seems," said Aemond, lips twitching as he glanced at Rhysaenya. "Your daughter is as great a warrior as Rhysilla Ignividus was said to be."

Karrhys seemed impressed that he knew this. "And you may be a swordsman to be written of in the greatest Targaryen histories." He nodded his head, "I'll leave you both, then. I've an appointment with the Lord Hand to discuss some preparations for the wedding."

Rhysaenya felt he was mentioning that on purpose to see how Aemond would react. Though he tried to hide it, Aemond was clearly upset by this. Karrhys simply turned away without showing his own thoughts on the matter, tucking his hands together and leaving swiftly. Wiping the sweat off her face, Rhysaenya went to tuck her spear away, Aemond following.

"Have you given my words any thought?" he inquired.

Her lips turned upwards, having an idea. "Yes, Aemond, I have. Is there a place in this castle where we might speak without being heard?"

His eye appeared to darken. "Yes, I know a place."

He led her through the hallways winding back toward the wing the royals stayed in, though he turned at a different staircase and guided her up until they reached a wall that, like the Phoenixfort, wasn't really a wall. He popped it open and beckoned her inside. With a finger over his lips, he had her follow silently until they reached a set of stone steps with a steel railing.

Pushing the next wall opened, he revealed a dusty chamber, its curtains barely allowing any sunlight in. "This room was occupied by Princess Rhaenyra," said Aemond. "No one has touched it since her departure. My father might've ordered it to be left so in the event she ever returns. Aegon sometimes brings his friends to drink here. Today, we have it to ourselves."

He shut the door, pressing the grooves deep to even out the painted wall. He prompted, "Admit it. You enjoyed being pinned beneath me and realized you don't want to marry him."

Rhysaenya sat on the dusty bed, staring up at him. "Gods, yes," she said sarcastically, as emphasized as possible so he'd know she was kidding. "I enjoyed you pinning me down with your sword to my neck. Truly, the most erotic thing I have ever experienced in my short life."

He didn't seem to know she was joking, and she said, "In all seriousness, I gave your words some thought... and I wanted to ask..." She smirked wide, "Do you want to marry me because I'm a warrior or because you want Karrhys Ignividus as a father-in-law?" He scowled and turned away, making her press on, "Because at this point, I think you fancy him more than you apparently fancy me."

"Don't jest about such things," he said in a hard voice. "What does it matter if I am glad for his praise?"

Her smile fell when she realized what sort of effect her father's praise would have on him. She doubted his own father had ever given him any praise. According to Karrhys, Viserys had so easily brushed aside what Lucerys did to Aemond. Had he even given his son a pat on the back after what he endured? Aemond should not have threatened Rhaenyra's sons, but why did Lucerys receive not even a smack on the hand? Karrhys would have beat his sons for doing anything of that nature regardless of the circumstances.

It must have meant so much to Aemond to have Karrhys willing to train him, willing to evaluate his progress. Rhysaenya carefully said, "My father admires you a great deal. He believes you are strong. It is not because you lack anything that I cannot marry you. It is because it was decided by our families. We value the same things, Aemond. Our family and their future. If they've decided this for me and for Aegon... we cannot truly resist it short of us running away with our dragons."

"You saw the connection you and I had today," he murmured. "Do you honestly think you'll ever receive that from Aegon? Take me as your husband regardless of what they think. You could still wed a Prince and remain in the castle."

"I think there is a chance of it," said Rhysaenya genuinely. "I want to at least try. Besides, I'd sooner wed Helaena if my aim was simply to stay here. You don't seem to understand, Aemond, nothing you do short of stealing me away is going to make me your wife. And even if you tried that, Skyfall would chase after us and bite Vhagar's tail until you let me go."

"You are Ignividus," he said. "I am Targaryen. Houses of strength and fire. We are meant to be together, you and I. Lovers of history, lovers of battle."

"I know that," she said, "but Aegon is a Targaryen, too. The husband that was chosen for me. A husband that would... give me a bit of freedom." As Aemond leaned over her, she admitted, "He would allow me to take you as a lover if I so wish. I can follow my duty and still follow my heart. Have both of you if that's what I want or simply one of you."

He reached down to hold her throat, tilting her head up to look at him as if to scan her face for lies. Her heart skipped a beat, this game of his intriguing her. He made her stand and placed his other hand on her waist, bringing his temple to lean against hers, his breath on her neck. Aemond did not need to do anything further to bring to her mind a strange fantasy that involved him pinning her down on a bed the way he'd pinned her down in the yard.

He whispered in her ear, "Are you toying with me?"

"Aegon told me himself," she whispered back. "I swear it. But as I said in the Dragonpit... you also need to show me you are better. By that, I mean, you deserve for me to even consider his offer. If I am going to bring you both into my bed, if you are going to share me, then I don't simply want to be caught in the middle of your feud. I want you both to earn whatever attention I give you."

He raised a brow, appearing amused. "And we are meant to become better men for your sake?"

"Well, I'd hope you'd do it for yourselves, too. But yes, why shouldn't I expect more from you if we're going to do this? I don't think it's too much to ask. I think I am worth it. As you remind me, I am an Ignividosi warrior who knows her histories and, clearly, is beautiful enough for you both to be throwing yourselves at me no matter the circumstances."

He nodded. "Yes. You are more than worth it. If what you say is true–"

"It is."

"Then," he continued, "I will speak to Aegon about it myself. But I want you to say it to my face first. You desire me as your lover."

Rhysaenya drew back and smiled, "No, I won't tell you anything of that sort yet. There are still four months left before my wedding, and I've been back only one whole day. I've seen a piece of you and liked it... but there is much I still need to consider before we make this formal. I only mean it is a possibility. Speak to Aegon, you'll see it's true. Soon enough, you'll both hear what I have to say."

Aemond's eye traced over her face until he decided, "I will always protect you from him. Should you be in need of anything, you will always know where to find me." He removed his hands from her neck and waist and made toward the secret passage, hair swaying against his back. She was glad he hadn't tried to use Princess Rhaenyra's bed to make his point.

A bath was prepared for her as she returned to her chambers. The water was past boiling when she slid in, comforted by its warmth. She sank in and sighed as one of her handmaidens began undoing her braids, Rhysaenya herself taking a rag and running it along her body. She felt haunted by Aegon's touch and by Aemond's words. By Aegon's words and Aemond's touch.

It was all very confusing yet exciting at the same time. She felt wicked for entertaining this but couldn't help but anticipate when it might actually start, if she and Aegon decided it was best for everyone's sanity. Her mind swam the entire night, fearfully out of control. Over and over she saw visions of Aegon and Aemond, each approaching her in their own way.

Aegon would say a joke in the visions and kiss her when she laughed, he'd press her to her bed and continue kissing her where it made her feel ticklish. He'd talk her through what he was doing and what he wanted her to do to him, he'd be sweet for a moment then unleash and overwhelm her with stimulation. She'd wake up in a cold sweat, legs aching as if she'd actually been riding him, as if he'd actually been gripping her thighs to hold them apart as he buried his face between them.

Aemond would make her angry, he'd challenge her in the visions then pin her to a wall and kiss her like an animal starved. He'd pull her to the ground and roughly lift her riding skirt, looming over her as he had in the yard and watching her face the entire time he stuffed her with his fingers or his cock. She'd wake up with her hands on her neck, imagining his touch still lingered, that the marks he left on her body remained.

She tried her hardest to avoid them both the rest of the week, no matter how painfully obvious it was. It was better so they might talk about the situation that may arise and so she may assess from afar if letting them both in was a good idea. Aemond knew he had to earn his spot as her lover and Aegon knew he had to earn a spot as her one and only.

For the sake of staying away from them, she'd slip away on Skyfall at the randomest of hours, she'd visit Helaena more often, she'd have the men train her indoors. She would take dinner with only her parents, who seemed very pleased with how things were going.

Apparently, no expense was being spared when it came to their wedding. Rhaelyn had even been given the privilege to refine the guest list and ensure those she did not like would not be in attendance. Of course, the individual invitation to Daemon was foregone. She knew Rhaenyra would never attend and that her new husband would not accompany her.

Helaena was oblivious to everything, which allowed Rhysaenya the ability to pretend none of it was happening at all. Only at night did it come to torment her, images appearing that made her question her sanity. Her curiosities exploded more and more and she did herself no good by procuring books so she might know more about these sensations. Surely, the Maesters thought she was mad.

She loved the differences between them. One was funny and the other witty. One put her at ease and the other put her guard up in an amusing way. She could joke freely with one and joke in moderation with the other. She could talk about the things that bothered her with one and release her anger with the other.

Rhysaenya almost wished they hadn't become so good-looking. Then, this conflict would not be a problem. She'd be reasonably firm with both of them and only let her guard down once they'd proven they deserved her trust. Instead, her curiosity had gotten the better of her and she'd revealed her idea prematurely.

She wanted both Aegon's hidden light and Aemond's overt darkness. If this was to be her fate, why shouldn't it be exciting? Why shouldn't she indulge when she'd never been able to before?

It was at the beginning of the next week that she knew for certain that Aegon would never be able to give up the Street of Silk. She'd gone out for a ride with him and he'd admitted to breaking his streak while he waited for their wedding. She didn't scold him, simply said that she suspected it might happen. She told him of her dream and made him the first to know that she would want Aemond to indulge her in these fantasies at least a few times. Aegon didn't seem to mind, and told her Aemond had come to him claiming they both wanted Rhysaenya and it wasn't fair if only one got to have her.

"This will be our arrangement, then," said Rhysaenya, having convinced them both to fly with her out to the grassy field for a private chat. Aemond and Aegon sat far apart from each other, her standing between. "In four months' time, I will marry Aegon. This cannot be contested. My parents will be around too much for me to slip either of you into my bedchambers and my mother already told me that soon, I'm going to be very busy approving decorations and trying on dresses and jewels. Helaena is making my veil and I need to sit with her much longer to model it. My father still wants me training up until the last second and I doubt I'll be able to fly here with either of you very often."

"So," said Aegon, "what you're saying is you cannot fuck either of us anytime soon?"

Aemond scowled, "Will you let her finish?"

"That was more or less what I meant," admitted Rhysaenya. "Our arrangement cannot begin until after the wedding. For now, I hope for us to continue speaking with each other and letting me know more about the both of you... but no matter what you try, neither of you are getting me into bed until my wedding night."

"The wedding night?" asked Aegon. "The lords will want to witness the consummation."

Rhysaenya nodded. "Yes, they will. So they'll witness it. I'll bed you first because you are my husband. Aemond can come to find me using Maegor's tunnels afterwards. Aegon, you can stay or go after that... whatever you want to do. We can set ourselves a schedule after that to decide how to proceed afterwards. It may be none of us find what we expected and we wish to either dissolve the agreement or modify it. If we're all satisfied with it... we can decide what days or nights I spend with Aegon, which with Aemond, and which with both if you really are fine with sharing me in that capacity."

Aemond smirked, as if entertained with the way she laid this out for her benefit. "Your call, my lady."

Aegon seemed equally amused. "Don't worry, Rhysaenya. I don't think either of us are going to be dissatisfied at all."