ACT II — CHAPTER II
Tʜᴇ Oɴᴇ-Eʏᴇᴅ Pʀɪɴᴄᴇ

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"The Darling of the Realm? That seems a bit self-righteous, don't you agree?"

Myra Velaryon knew that she could not go the rest of her life without ever facing Aemond Targaryen again, but she thought she thought she would have more time.

He had changed so much in the time they had been apart. The first thing she noticed was that he was much taller. They used to be around the same height, but now it felt as if he towered over her. He had grown his hair out, as well; it used to just go down just above his shoulders, but now it had grown past them.

The most staggering difference, and the one Myra had been dreading, was the leather eyepatch that covered Aemond's left eye. There was a scar that ran halfway up his forehead and halfway down his cheek. Myra tried not to linger on that too long, but she knew Aemond could tell she had been staring at it.

Myra did her best to keep a stoic expression when she answered him, "I agree, but it was not a title I gave myself. So, not too self-righteous."

A sly smile grew on Aemond's face, "You don't look happy to see me."

"That would be because I am not," Myra said, trying to ignore the nervous feeling in her stomach, "I am surprised to see you, though."

"I do not know why you are. The Tarlys are of the Reach, as is my mother's house," he told her, "It would only be right to have a representative of her house here."

"Why not send Daeron?" Myra asked, "He's spent his entire life in the Reach, when you haven't even stepped a foot in its direction."

"How would you know where I've stepped? We haven't spoken in years," Aemond said, stepping closer to her, "Unless, that is, you've been keeping tabs on me?"

Myra promptly backed away from him.

It was odd, seeing him again, after all these years. Things had changed so much, but he was still Aemond, the same Aemond that she would sit in the Godswood with for hours on end. He was still her Aemond, if she could even call him that.

"Myra, I found Lord Caswell, we —" Jacaerys, who had walked up behind Myra, stopped talking when he saw Aemond.

"Hello, nephew," Aemond greeted, "Quite the reunion we're having."

"Come on, Myra," Jace muttered, grabbing his sister's arm, "The wedding's about to start."

Myra stared at Aemond a moment longer, whose eye had still not left her.

She slightly bowed her head, "Goodbye, uncle."

"Myra," Aemond said, bowing his own head to say goodbye before Jace promptly dragged her away.

"What did he say to you?" Jace asked once they were out of earshot, "Is Aegon here?"

"Nothing important, and no, I don't believe so," Myra answered, looking around, "He was just taunting me, is all."

Jace looked furious, and Myra, worried he might go back to Aemond and do something rash, pulled him away and towards Laisa and Lord Caswell, who she could see just across the hall.

Even though Jace was two years younger than Myra, he felt protective over her, perhaps even more protective than she felt over him. This was evident by the way he kept looking over his shoulder at Aemond, whose eye never left Myra throughout the ceremony.

Myra never looked back at him, despite how desperately she wanted to. She knew Aemond was looking at her, and she wasn't sure how to feel. The only thing she did know was that she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of returning his gaze, even though she knew Aemond was practically staring a hole into the back of her head.

The ceremony itself was the same as any Westerosi wedding. While Myra did believe it was beautiful, it held nothing to a traditional Valyrian wedding. Even though Rhaenyra and Daemon's wedding was sullied by its timing, the simplicity and intimacy of it always stuck with Myra. She wanted to have a wedding like Rhaenyra and Daemon's, but she knew she wouldn't be able to. As the future Queen, she had to go by the traditions of her people.

Once Trevas Mooton and Renei Tarly were married, the servants promptly brought out two long tables and another that was about half the length of the other two. The two longer tables were placed down the lengths of the room, while the shorter table was brought to the head of the room.

The Mooton and Tarly families sat at the head table, and Myra and Jace were invited to join them, as members of the Royal family. Unfortunately, they were not the only members of the Royal family in attendance.

It was just Myra's luck that she would be placed at the end of the table and that Aemond would be placed at the other end of it. It was much more difficult to ignore him when he was right across from her.

Jace angrily glared at Aemond, his hand balled into a fist. He knew how much his sister had loved Aemond, and he remembered how quick he was to strike her that night on Driftmark when Myra was the only one trying to stop the conflict. It was safe to say that Jacaerys despised his uncle, and that was putting it lightly.

"Is it nice on Dragonstone?" Renei, now Mooton, asked the siblings.

Myra glanced at Jace, but he was too busy staring Aemond down. So, she answered, "I believe so. I suppose it can be quite intimidating to those who don't live there."

"It can," Renei agreed, laughing, "I've never been, of course, but I have seen seen drawings of it. It's quite the fortress."

"It is, but it's home. I love it there," Myra told her.

That was the truth. It took a while for her to get used to living in Dragonstone, as her love for King's Landing ran deep, but now her love for Dragonstone was even deeper. She used to find the place cold, but now it was filled with a lovely warmth.

When the feast was over, the newlyweds took to the open space of the Hall and began to dance. Everyone watched, as was tradition, as the musicians played their instruments and the couple laughed and smiled with one another.

When the first dance was over, the second one began and more people joined the couple. Myra watched as they joined the floor and began to dance. She had been practicing dances for years, along with Jace and Luke, although she had never danced in front of many people. Part of her hoped that no one asked her to dance in case she messed up.

She was so distracted by the crowd of people on the floor that she didn't notice the dark-haired boy approaching their table.

"Hello, my Lords," he greeted, standing in front of the table, his eyes flicking over to Myra.

"Who are you?" Jace asked quickly, noticing the boy's attention on his sister.

"This is Derron Borrell, my Prince, of Sweetsister," Lord Mooton answered, not noticing the slight aggression in Jace's voice, "His house is a good friend to ours. Is there something we can help you with, young lord?"

"I was only wondering if the Princess would be willing to spare a dance for me," he said, looking at Myra as he spoke.

Even though she had just been thinking about how she didn't want to dance, Myra could not help the way her face heated up and the small, tight-lipped smile forming on her face.

"Of course, my lord," Myra agreed.

As she stood, she glanced at Jacaerys and gave him a look that said not to worry. Jace relaxed, if only slightly. Derron held out his arm and Myra linked her own through his. Together, they walked down to the floor. Myra could see Laisa and Ellena at one of the long tables, giggling to themselves while Carden stood by the door to the Hall, a bored expression on his face as he kept a watchful eye on her.

She looked over her shoulder, with the intent of looking back at her brother, but instead, she caught sight of Aemond. He was staring right at her, and while she could not read his face from so far away, Myra could see that his hand was balled into a fist on the table.

Myra and Derron joined the crowd and began to dance. Luckily it was a simple one, so Myra wasn't too worried about messing up in front of everyone. She was glad for it, as her mind was too focused on Aemond.

She couldn't take her eyes off of him, nor could he take his eye off of her. Myra did not know why she was so drawn to him now, after she had spent the past six years hating him.

"Princess? Did you hear me?" Derron asked.

Myra's attention quickly snapped back to him, "No, I am sorry, my lord. I have never been to an event such as this before, and it is all so exciting."

"Luck has it that has to do with my question for you," Derron said, "Why have you never attended an event such as this before?"

"My mother believed me to be too young," Myra answered, "Between you and I, I believe my brother to be too young to have come here, but I don't know what I would do without his company."

"I assume that you and your brothers are close, then?" Derron asked her.

"My brothers are my world. They have made me who I am, and I fear who I would be without them," Myra said, a smile on her face, "Do you have siblings?"

"Yes, two sisters, both younger," he replied, "I am not sure I would describe them as my world, but I love them deeply."

"I am sure they are as kind as you have proven yourself to be," Myra told him.

They walked in a circle with the music, their fingertips grazing one another's. They looked each other in the eye, an interest growing in each of them for the other.

"You think me to be kind?" Derron asked, a teasing smile on his face.

"So far, yes," Myra said, "But you may come to prove me wrong."

The song ended, and a new one immediately began. Without having to ask, Myra and Derron began to dance again. Myra enjoyed being with him. He was kind and honorable, from what she could tell, and was good-looking, with dark curly hair and dark eyes. She knew he was putting his best self forward and he could very well be a prick, but there was always hope that his first impressions were true.

"So, Princess, do —"

"Do you mind?"

Myra froze. She had been so focused on Derron that she hadn't noticed Aemond standing up from the table and coming over to them.

Derron looked between Myra and Aemond, seemingly unsure of what to do. Finally, he said, "Of course, my Prince."

He walked away, back to one of the long tables. Myra glared up at Aemond.

"What are you doing?" she spat.

"I want to share a dance with my niece. Is that a crime?" Aemond replied, grabbing her hand, "Start moving, or else we'll draw too much attention to ourselves."

Myra sighed, but complied — she really didn't want to draw attention to them. She looked back at the head table. Jace was glaring at them, hard.

"I would consider it a crime, actually," Myra said, their hands raising as they walked around one another.

"How is it one?"

"Because I don't like you and you know it."

Aemond smiled, humming in response.

They faced one another, then took a step in, so close that if Myra moved a few inches she would be leaning against him.

"Fortasse gaomā daor hae nyke se fortasse nyke ȳdra daor hae ao, yn rȳ least iksan daor temptatis naejot gaomagon ao syt iā titulus," Aemond said, his eye looking between hers for a hint of confusion.

Myra glared at him. Maybe you do not like me and maybe I don't like you, but at least I'm not trying to use you for a title, he had said. Her jaw tensed and her eyes darkened.

"Īlon ȳdragotan istin Se ao pendagon issa gaomagon nyke? Nyke sentire ao sagon māzis naejot conclusiones tolī adhirikydho," she said. We talked once and you think he is using me? I feel you're jumping to conclusions too quickly.

Aemond smiled, "Emā issare observatio bē lēda aōha studiis, nyke ūndegon."

You have been keeping up with your studies, I see. Myra scoffed.

"Gaomagon ao pendagon nyke vtinam daor emagon? Gōntan ao nūmāzma naejot mock nyke lo nyke posset daor shifang ao?" she asked. Do you think I wouldn't have? Did you mean to mock me if I could not understand you?

"Ziry gaomas daor matter skoros nyke would emagon gaomagon kesrio syt ziry gōntan daor massigon," Aemond told her. It does not matter what I would have done because it didn't happen.

Myra sighed. Their fingers were interlocked as they walked around one another. The Velaryon girl found herself thinking of the last time she saw Aemond, on that balcony on Driftmark. She remembered how, even after the events that led to the loss of his eye, she found comfort in his presence, how he wasn't cruel to her, when he arguably had every right to be.

In the few words that they had exchanged, Myra could tell he had changed so much since then, and she didn't think it was for the better.

When the song ended, Myra looked him in his eye, and whispered, "Ao gaomagon naejot sagon sȳz."

You used to be kind.

She walked away before he could react, disappearing into the crowd that had started to dance again, hoping that he wouldn't be able to catch up to her.

Myra walked to the door of the Hall where Carden stood. He seemed confused as she approached, straightening up as he prepared to assist her.

"I wish to be alone, Ser Carden. There is no need for you to come with me. Make sure Jace doesn't try to follow me," she told him. Carden nodded and Myra walked past him and out of the Hall.

She wandered through the corridors, trying to find a place where she could have some solace.

Why did Aemond have to be there? Why did he have to dance with her? Why had she brought that blade with her, all those years ago?

Myra walked until she found herself in a garden. It was much more lively than the garden at Dragonstone. It almost reminded her of the one in King's Landing. She didn't know what it was about gardens that made her feel at peace, but she was already feeling better.

She took deep breaths and placed her hands on her hips, staring up at the night sky. She and Jace would have to leave the next morning. Myra couldn't bear being in the same castle with Aemond.

"You always did enjoy gardens."

Myra spun around. Aemond was standing against the stone wall, his head cocked as he looked at her.

"What do you want?" Myra asked, "Why do you wish to torment me?"

"I do not wish to torment you," Aemond said. He came off the wall and walked up to her, "All I want is for you to be honest with me."

"Honest? About what?" Myra questioned, taking steps away from him.

"You missed me."

Myra stared at him, wide-eyed.

"Admit it. You missed me," Aemond repeated.

"I won't admit something that's not true," Myra stated.

"That's a lie," Aemond said immediately, "You're scared to admit it, so I will. I missed you. Now, it is your turn to be honest."

Myra rubbed her eyes, "What do you think this is? What do you think will happen if I tell you what you want to hear?"

Aemond didn't say anything. Myra sighed, turning away from him. She walked over to a bush of flowers, picking one. She was incredibly confused with this entire conversation, and she desperately wanted to be alone. Unfortunately, she understood that Aemond wouldn't leave her be until she gave him what he wanted.

She turned back around, "I did miss you. But that doesn't mean anything. I hate you more than I miss you."

"You don't hate me."

"I do. I hate you. I hate you for all you did."

"Vhagar was an unclaimed dragon. I had every right to claim her," Aemond said, his voice rising slightly.

"I am not talking about Vhagar! I am talking about you almost murdering my brothers!" Myra shouted, "You held a rock over their heads! You would have killed them!"

"Perhaps they would have deserved it!" Aemond fired back, "They mocked me my entire life for not having a dragon, and that night all four of them attacked me!"

"So they deserve death?" Myra questioned, "Their actions were rash, but they were children!"

"I was a child too!"

Myra faltered. He was right — all of them were just children. They didn't fully understand that their actions had consequences. They were just children, given access to a weapon they should never have been able to get their hands on.

"I wanted to hate you. For years, I tried to," Aemond said, his voice soft, and Myra hadn't realized how close they had gotten while they were shouting, "But I couldn't. I may not have spoken of you every day, but I did always think of you."

Tears began to well in Myra's eyes. She did her best to blink them away.

"Why are you telling me this?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Because I miss my closest friend," he answered.

Myra looked him in his eye. She hated how sincere he looked.

"I would appreciate it if you left me alone, Aemond," she said. She dropped the flower she had plucked, now crumpled from her squeezing it.

Myra left the garden and headed back to the Great Hall. Aemond watched her go, and once she was out of sight, he picked up the crumpled flower, delicately holding it in his hands.

•⋅•⋅•

"Aemond was there?"

The morning after the wedding, Myra promptly left Maidenpool with Jacaerys and their servants. Throughout the four day journey, all Myra could think about was Aemond and his words. She wanted to hate him, so much so that she even told herself that she did. After all, there was no chance that he held any love for her.

But he did. Aemond didn't hate her, as she had believed. So, her only thought for the past four days had been Aemond. His name was like a song in her head, Aemond, Aemond, Aemond ...

When they arrived on Dragonstone, Myra held her mother tightly. There are times in one's life when they need to be hugged by their mother, and this was one of those times for Myra.

In the Great Hall of Dragonstone, Myra and Jace recounted their time at Maidenpool to their family over dinner. Of course, it would be impossible not to mention Aemond. When Jace brought him up, Lucerys' face paled, and he asked, "Aemond was there?"

"He was," Myra replied, "I bet you're glad that you didn't go now."

Luke slouched back in his seat. Myra smiled, if only slightly.

"Myra shared a dance with him," Jace said, taking a sip from his cup. Myra's jaw hitched as she glared at her brother.

"You danced with the Hightower twat?" Daemon asked, tapping his fingers on the table.

Myra sighed, "Yes, I did. Once. I couldn't say no, or else it would cause a scene."

"One dance cannot hurt," Rhaenyra said, although she didn't look very pleased.

"I also danced with Derron Borrell, of Sweetsister," Myra said, as if it would help.

"And how was that?" Baela asked, a teasing tone in her voice.

"Pleasant," Myra answered, taking a sip of her own drink, "He seemed kind enough."

"That is good," Rhaenyra remarked, smiling at her daughter.

Baela and Rhaena exchanged knowing glances, but they knew very little of what Myra was thinking. How she wished her mind was plagued with thoughts of Derron rather than Aemond, but alas, it was not so.

Over the next few days, Myra did everything she could to stop thinking of Aemond. In her training with Daemon, Baela, and Rhaena, she hit harder than usual and was so aggressive that even Daemon was slightly concerned. Myra buried herself in her studies, trying to distract herself from her constant thoughts of Aemond.

The most effective method of blocking Aemond out was spending time with her siblings. Whether it be Baela and Rhaena or little Aegon, any time spent with them put her at ease, if only for a little while.

Rhaenyra, noticing her daughter's state of slight distress, tried to talk about what was bothering her in Myra's chambers, over a week after the wedding.

"I am fine, Mother, I promise," Myra told her, not even stopping her notetaking.

"Are you sure?" Rhaenyra asked, "You've been sulking around the corridors as of late."

"I haven't been sulking," Myra said, turning around in her chair to face her mother.

Rhaenyra sighed, holding a hand over her stomach, "Is it something to do with seeing Aemond?"

"No," Myra answered quickly, turning back around.

"It would be perfectly reasonable, if that were the case," Rhaenyra went on, "I know how you loved him, and how torn apart you were after the — the incident."

Myra did not give in, "If something was wrong, I would tell you."

They both knew that the young girl was lying, but Rhaenyra decided against pushing it any further. Myra was not one to voice when she was hurt, a consequence of isolating herself after Rhaenyra and Daemon helped fake Laenor's death.

So, while Rhaenyra couldn't get the truth out of her daughter, she did her best to support Myra through her anguish.

Two weeks after the wedding, Myra was in the library reading over ancient texts when Maester Gerardys approached her, a piece of parchment in hand.

"Princess," he greeted, "A letter has arrived for you."

Myra perked up in her seat, "It was addressed to me?"

"It was."

Myra took the letter from Gerardys' hands. The only person she could think of who might have sent her a letter was Derron. He had shown some interest in her, as she had shown some in him.

However, the moment she saw the handwriting her name was written in, she knew who it was. Myra folded the letter back up and stood up from her seat.

"Have you told anyone I received this?" Myra asked.

Gerardys shook his head, "No, Princess."

"I would appreciate it if you did not," she told him, "If I send a reply, I would ask you to keep that between us, as well."

"Of course, Princess."

Myra quickly thanked him before running out of the library and to her chambers. She couldn't risk anyone seeing the contents of the letter.

She closed the door behind her and immediately leaned against the door and slid down it onto the floor. Carefully, Myra opened the letter.

Myra,

I am sure you were not expecting me to write to you. I didn't think I would myself. I know you asked me to leave you alone, but I don't think that's what you truly wish for.

When we were children, we had a bond that I fear to be rare. I want to experience that bond again, with you.

If you tell me you want nothing to do with me, then I will believe you. However, I urge you to be honest, with me and yourself.

I eagerly await your response, should you choose to send one.

Aemond.

Myra held the letter to her chest, taking deep breaths.

She remembered what Aemond had said when they spoke. I may not have spoken of you every day, but I did always think of you. Years ago, when she first left for Dragonstone, Myra had told him that she would ensure that he spoke of her every day. He remembered that conversation. That meant something to her.

Myra ran over to her desk, scrambling for a quill and a piece of parchment. Very quickly, she wrote down:

Aemond,

You were right, as much as I hate to admit it. I have missed you, and I never hated you, even though I desperately wanted to. If you wish to rekindle our friendship, I am willing to try. However, I make no promises. You have to prove yourself, as I am sure I will have to prove myself.

From,
Myra

She reread the short letter. Perhaps she would come to regret this decision in the future, but right now, all Myra could do was selfishly smile.

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WRITTEN: august 2024
EDITED: august 2024
WORDS: 4,175

AUTHOR'S NOTE! hello :) i am back at school which is why it took so long for this chapter to come out. i wasn't sure how to end this chapter but i think it worked out okay. also psa the valyrian is probably inaccurate but we keep moving i guess lol

i have to be up in like five hours so i'm going to bed but i hope you enjoyed this chapter!!