He did not understand. Aemond read the scrolls that Criston Cole had given him, his jaw clenching as his eye glazed over each word. The war intensified, the opposition would not relent. And as if that was not enough, his wife was hysterical all the time as of late. He did not understand.

"This is bullshit and you know it." Aemond spoke coldly, dropping the letter down on his desk, his eye finding Criston— who nodded in agreement.

"They have the advantage, you knew this before Duskendale and Rook's Rest. Tis only a matter of time before they come for King's Landing, for all of us." Criston responded, handing him another scroll.

"Tis about the Riverlands. The rebellion keeps going strong, even after they saw what happened to Duskendale and Rook's Rest in the crownlands. Tis not good, your grace. The lords are dubious now, what with everything happening... the King's injuries and such." Aemond rubbed his temple as Criston spoke, his patience wearing thin.

"Dubious? Of what? Him getting hurt was a possibility all along, they knew that. Are they all so fickle minded that an injury turns them away from fighting for the true King?" Aemond questioned, his temper flaring as he read over more scrolls— all of them bearing news that were not at all good for them.

"Tis not that... they know that the King's injuries are bad... and they worry because..." Criston could not find the way to tell Aemond the truth of it. "Speak, Cole." Aemond ordered angrily.

"Because news of the Lady Elyana's barrenness has spread through the court and through the kingdom. They worry if the King Aegon fades, they will stand behind a new King that can not produce an heir. And I do worry for the same.." Criston tried to be as careful with his words as he possibly could be, as he did not want to upset the prince regent.

Aemond knew that would be the reasoning, for there was nothing else the lords could worry about other than the inability that he had to produce an heir in the moment. "My wife's fertility is not a matter of the realm, tis hers and mine alone." He stated firmly. His one eye was almost burning a hole on Criston with how intense his glare was.

"If you are crowned King, which can happen soon if Aegon does not heal, it becomes a matter of the realm. Succession got us into this war in the first place, shall we truly send the realm deeper into turmoil?" Criston pressed.

"What should I do?!" Aemond asked, losing his temper, "I have a duty to my lady wife. She lost our babe, nay, our babe was murdered. And she was maimed in the process. What should I do?!"

"You know well what to do, your grace. You could take a paramour, have a child, claim it as legitimate." Aemond laughed at this proposition.

"You want me to do what the cunt pretender Queen has been doing for years? No." Aemond stated simply, which made Criston let out a deep calming breath. "Then, you could take a second wife, or separate from Lady Elyana. You have options, though you must act quick, to ease the lords' minds."

"Why should I take my marriage advice from a Hand of the King who has never wed? A Hand that was previously a kingsguard? Before that, a measly knight. You know nothing, Cole." Aemond snarled.

He did not appreciate Cole suggesting him to cast his wife aside, not at all.

"You should take advice from the man that watched you grow into who you are. From someone that loves you, that wants you to win the war for all of us." Criston was now trying to speak from his heart.

"Sweet." Aemond stated sarcastically.

He was much too irrate to try and appreciate what Criston had said. His mind hurt from all the over thinking it did as of late. He knew he needed an heir, but how could he ever get one? The woman he loved was barren.

"And what of Maelor? He is Aegon's son. If I do not produce an heir then let him have the throne." Aemond reasoned.

"If you become the King, would you truly be fulfilled if the throne is inherited by anyone else but your own spawn? I know you, Aemond. You would resent it every day." Criston pressed, making Aemond grimace.

He was right, but Aemond had not one inch of an idea of what he should do.

"I resent you pushing me to cast my own wife aside. That I resent." Aemond snapped angrily, his one eye narrowing unforgivingly on Criston.

"You'll resent her if you do not. Why does she even matter? She is a social climbing wh-" Aemond cut Criston off.

"Speak ill of her and you'll see what happens to that tongue of yours." He warned the Hand, who quite literally bit his tongue to stop himself from saying something he might regret.

But Criston did not stop there, after a few minutes of silence he said, "You could find another wife! I bet somewhere in the realm there is a lady you could love."

"If I am not with her, then I will live in pain. I lived in pain for years of my life, lived in resentment... and only she pulled me out. If I am not with Elyana then I do not want to live. Tis as simple as that." Aemond was stubborn and headstrong, and when it came to his wife— it amplified.

"Leave me." Aemond ordered and motioned to the door. Criston nodded once and stood up, striding across the study and towards the door. Though before leaving he said, "You put too much trust in her, your grace. She might just betray you too, just like she did Cargyll."

Aemond slammed his fists on the desk and stood up, his right hand flying to his sheathed dagger. And before Criston could even react, the prince regent's dagger was sent flying across the room. It spun into the wall with a loud thud, missing Criston's head by just a few inches.

Criston looked at Aemond in sheer shock, the look on the prince's face was deranged. "The next time I will not miss, you know that. Now get out, and never dare mention that cunt, Erryk Cargyll, again."

And when alone, Aemond buried his face in his hands. He felt he was going mad as of late, as if no one understood the burden that came with the crown that sat atop his head. He had dreamt of being King since he had reason, but now he felt as if he was being choked by all that was expected of him.

And Elyana was not helping. She was supposed to be his rock, the shoulder he could lean on— the one to calm his mind, but instead all she did was scream and berate him. Aemond took off his patch and flung it across the room angrily, every thing annoyed him— he was overstimulated.

He was so confused, he did not comprehend where it was that he had gone wrong with his wife. He never did what she was accusing him of, he would never be unfaithful to her— and her lack of trust made him doubt of her, of her intentions. Aemond shook his head, trying to clear it of all of the thoughts that circled in his brain, but he could not.

He doubted everything. Why did Elyana want to join the council without telling him? Why did she not trust him? Why was she acting so erratic? Aemond stood up from his desk and left his study, walking down the many halls of the Red Keep. His mind was racing as he walked, it was full of doubts— full of uncertainty.

He reached Aegon's chambers and went in without even looking at the guards, and going over to the bed where his brother was laying. Aemond had visited his brother every day since they got back to King's Landing, he spent hours on end with his brother.

They never agreed on anything, they scarcely got along without fighting over petty things— but they were brothers, they loved eachother.

"I see you get worse by the day." Aemond said stoicly, his one eye fixed on his burnt brother who was barely conscious. Aegon groaned, and his condition was one that reminded Aemond of their late father. He sat down near the bed and sighed, "The Riverlands keep on their rebel activities... they will not bend the knee to you, much less myself."

After garnering no reply he added, "I removed Elyana from the council, only because I feel she has no experience or knowledge in the matter. She is angry with me... thinks I did it to scorn her, thinks I have adultered with one of the Baratheon wenches." Aemond scoffed.

Aegon groaned, opening one eye just a bit to look at his brother, though he closed it again. Aemond did not even know if his brother was listening to him. "I have pined and wanted this throne for the majority of my life, Aegon. And now that I have it... I am the unhappiest I have ever been..." he said.

Aemond had no one to talk to, not really. His silent brother was the only one he could confess his secrets to now. It used to be his wife, but she didn't trust him— how could he trust her?

Aegon began coughing, though it was no normal cough— as blood sprayed all over Aemond. The Prince Regent took a deep breath and grimaced— standing up from his seat and then ordering the guards to get the maester.

Aegon only got worse, and that only worked to stress Aemond further— the worse he got, the more close Aemond was to getting his dream.

Though he was not sure his dream was worth losing the love of his life.

-

Aemond had not been sleeping in his marital chambers, he slept away from his wife because frankly he did not wish to strain their relationship further. He knew she would press him, that she would accuse him, that she would berate him— and frankly he feared he would lose his temper on her if she kept being as erratic as she was lately.

The worst part was that Aemond did not understand why she was acting that way, why she didn't trust him? Did she not see all that he had done for her? How he had moved land and sea just to wed her? How could she ever even believe that he would replace her with some Baratheon wench?

Frankly he had not been sleeping at all, his mind was always focused on his new title and his wife's behavior. He always wondered how he could show his love for her more than he already had. He always had trouble with communicating, and she was making it even more exhausting that he thought it had to be.

He sat in front of the fireplace in his new chambers, his eye fixed on the fire though his mind was elsewhere. He needed her to understand the burden of the crown, that it was heavy on his shoulders— but that it did not mean he loved her any less. If anything, he needed her now more than he ever did.

Aemond took a large gulp from the goblet in his hand, the red wine calmed down his nerves and doubts most of the nights as of late. It used to be her touch that calmed him, now he felt stress whenever she was around him.

He didn't even get what changed within her, they were fine when he left for Rook's Rest— then someone poured some venom in her ear and tore it all down.

Suddenly a loud knock came to the apartment's door, making him groan. He stood up slowly and moved to open it, confused when he found a crying Lucia at his door with a pair of guards behind her. Aemond frowned, "What is it?" he asked the crying girl.

"Tis Elyana, your grace... she has been hurt. It is grave."