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Outside, it was raining, and a dense fog had covered the roofs and hills of King's Landing. Thousands of small lights faintly glowed from the city, engulfed in mist and darkness. Aemond sat near his window, a book in his right hand, and a knife in the other, spinning it with his fingers in a repetitive motion.

Nyla, Nyla, Nyla. That's all he could think about. Her hair, her eyes, her hands, her skin. Her lips. The image of someone else's lips touching hers still disturbed him. But what disturbed him the most was the fear that she would never look at him with affection again after his words that morning. Perhaps he had really crossed the line this time.

Her damp eyes and her hurt voice had made him uncomfortable. He could still feel his chest constricted and a hard knot in his throat. It couldn't be guilt. No, guilt and sympathy were emotions he simply wasn't acquainted with. Instead, he had convinced himself that those incomprehensible emotions stemmed from the fact that his own actions had led to an unwanted and inconvenient result.

The previous night, he had left her in that alley with the resolution to forget her, but such a resolution hadn't lasted longer than a few hours. As soon as he entered his room, he had to fight the urge to go out and search for her once again. He didn't even want to imagine what that bastard could be doing to Nyla, with Nyla.

He couldn't understand their words entirely, but he had grasped the extent of Nyla's devotion to that guy. And wasn't that unfair? She was his maid. She was supposed to be his alone. To take care of him and only him. Wasn't that a given after he had treated her so kindly?

Perhaps that's why he was so angry, and perhaps that anger had driven him to be unnecessarily cruel to her. But he couldn't bear it any longer. He had to figure out a way to fix things with her.

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Aemond went in search of Ser Criston, knowing he could find a trusted and loyal advisor in him. He found him standing outside his mother's room, as always.

"My Prince," Cole bowed to Aemond as he saw him approaching.

Aemond stopped right in front of the guarding knight. "I need to ask you a question, Cole," he declared with an impenetrable expression. "It's rather personal."

"Yes..."Ser Criston hesitated for a few moments and checked around before leaving his post and approaching the balcony of the cloister.  "What has happened, my Prince?"

"I think... I've hurt a person," Aemond hinted, looking at the knight with an anticipating expression, as if expecting him to say something.
Contrary to his expectations, Ser Criston stood there in silence with a worried expression.

Aemond sighed in annoyance. "So? Don't just stand there looking at me. How do I fix it?"

Cole gulped before answering. "Well... I don't know who you're referring to, but if you've accidentally killed someone then I can-"

"What? No, I haven't killed anyone!" Aemond cut his words short. "I meant 'hurt' in a spiritual way..."

"Oh..." The knight seemed even more surprised to hear those words. "Is it... is it perhaps the queen you're talking about? Because if it's the queen, then I'm sure-"

"It's not my mother," Aemond sighed impatiently. "Doesn't matter who it is. Let's say that it's someone you don't know. So, how do I fix it?"

"Well... it's complicated to say. It depends on the situation and the person... but no one in this castle is entitled to feel insulted by you, my Prince."

"I couldn't care less about that. My intention is not for the individual involved to merely suck it up. Rather, I want that person to genuinely release any negative sentiments they may hold towards me."

"I see," Ser Criston pondered for a few seconds before continuing. "I apologise in advance if I dare to ask this, but is there a possibility that your grace feels like, well, like you have wronged the person in question?"

"Indeed, it seems like I have. So what do I do now?"

"Have you considered, perhaps, apologising to that person?" Aemond's expression hardened, and Ser Criston immediately regretted his words. "I didn't mean to offend you, my lord. I was simply advising in regard to what I myself would do-"

"It's not a bad idea." Aemond slightly turned his head. "And how do I apologise?"

Cole couldn't restrain from raising his eyebrows in a stunned expression.

"Well, you could start with a meaningful gift and your sincere... feelings of... regret...?" The knight's voice didn't seem too sure. The whole situation was too absurd for him.

"Mhnn," Aemond hummed as a sign of approval. He then proceeded to turn his back on Ser Criston, disappearing in a few seconds with a smirk on his face.

⋰⋆⁺❇︎⁺⋆⋱

Aemond entered the palace's majestic library. Despite the darkness, a sprinkling of moonbeams managed to penetrate through the grand stained glass windows, casting a glimmering light upon the gemstone embellishments adorning the books. The lingering scent of incense left by the maesters permeated the room, while a faint chill hung in the air.

In his childhood, Aemond had spent countless hours secluded in this library, but after claiming Vaghar, he had started studying in his own room, this place being a constant reminder of his days of utter powerlessness. However, much to his astonishment, the room now exuded a comforting familiarity, as though time had come to a standstill within its walls.

He let his fingers stroke the hard covers of the precious stacked books on the shelves, searching for a book that would both resonate with her tastes and possess undeniable worth.

After dedicating a solid half-hour to this pursuit, something captivated his attention—a small, alluring tome nestled quietly in a neglected corner.
The title, "Ruined Cities, Stolen Gods," was engraved on an exquisite obsidian cover, with twinkling embedded moonstones framing it. Aemond had heard rumours of this particular title, renowned for its gripping account chronicling the fall of the Kingdom of Sarnor.
Knowing how much Nyla loved history and tales of enigmatic, distant lands, he couldn't help but smirk in satisfaction upon such a perfect discovery.

He swiftly grabbed the book and returned to his room, eagerly wishing for the sun to rise quickly.

As the first rays of sunlight filtered through the large windows, Aemond left his rooms and headed towards the wing of the castle where the servants' quarters were located. Spotting the first maid he came across, he approached her to inquire about Nyla's room. The girl shyly pointed to a nearby door, then quickly bowed and vanished.

Uncertain whether to knock or wait for her, Aemond chose to linger outside her door, leaning against the wall. Passing servants would glimpse the prince and offer frightened and surprised expressions before bowing and hurrying away.

After about twenty minutes of waiting, doubt began to gnaw at Aemond's mind. What if Nyla had already left before his arrival? What if she was standing in his very chamber now? Just as those concerns took hold, the door swung open and Nyla emerged. She was wearing a simple, fitted grey dress, her long black hair gathered in a soft braid. Her pale hands looked even paler than usual, and weariness hung in her slightly reddened eyes. For a brief moment, she seemed oblivious to his presence, but when her gaze met his, it faltered as if struck by a tremor.

Taking a step forward, Aemond realised he had spent the entire night thinking about her, yet now, in the face of her gaze, he couldn't find a single word to say.

Nyla bowed. "Good morning, Your Highness. It is quite early. How may I assist you?" Her tone held a hint of coldness.

Aemond swallowed hard. "Actually, I came to apologise."

Nyla's expression registered surprise upon hearing his words.

"I am truly sorry for my behaviour over the past few days... and for the hurtful words spoken yesterday. I did not mean any of those threats," Aemond approached her, bowing deeply.

"Please, Nyla, forgive me," he pleaded, pouring all his sincerity into his words.

Nyla was too stunned to speak, but as she witnessed him bowing before her, panic flickered in her eyes.

"Please, Your Highness, rise! You cannot bow to me!" she implored, her voice filled with anxiety.

Aemond remained resolute, refusing to raise his head. "Call me Aemond, just as we agreed."

"Very well, Aemond," Nyla relented, her voice softer. "But please, stand up. You needn't do this."

With a faint smile, he finally raised his head. "Does that mean you forgive me?"

Nyla hesitated, her gaze softening. "There is nothing to forgive. I've also said things I didn't really mean. In fact, I was coming to your chambers to apologise as well."

Relief washed over Aemond. "I'm glad," he chuckled, reaching into his pocket. He retrieved the small precious book and extended it towards her. "It's a gift for you. I thought you might enjoy it."

Nyla appeared momentarily perplexed, doubting whether she had heard correctly.

"Is it truly for me?" Her wide black eyes resembled a cat seeking permission.

Aemond nodded, his voice firm. "Yours, and yours alone."

Her fingers tentatively stroked the precious obsidian cover, and a shy smile appeared on her lips. Then, cradling it delicately, she carefully opened the book to explore its contents. A growing grin stretched across her face as she eagerly scanned the pages. Aemond felt a surge of pride – she must have liked it.

Closing the book, she pressed it against her chest, her excitement evident. After squinting for a moment, she lowered her gaze and whispered, "Thank you, truly." Her voice dripped like sweet honey, a flush colouring her cheeks.

She was so beautiful, so precious, so sweet. He wanted to give her every beautiful thing, solely to witness that radiant, untainted smile grace her lips once more.

Never before had he experienced such intoxicating emotions: his chest warmed, tingled with anticipation; his muscles tightened, and the knot in his throat loosened. He longed to kiss her, to hold her close, to taste her skin, to mix her blood with his own. He wanted their breaths to match, their lungs to contract in unison, their heartbeats to resonate together. He longed to clasp her soul within his grasp.

───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

Author's note:

Hi loves! Thank you for reading this and for your support <3
For some reason I found this very difficult to write, so I'm sorry if it took me a while. I hope you liked the result though!
Next chapter will be the last one before the second act of the story begins, so enjoy the fluffiness until the dance starts ;)
Things will get pretty messy from that point on...

Q/: Who do you think changed more from the beginning of the story? Nyla or Aemond?

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（„• ֊ •„)♡ luv u