The Great Hall of the Red Keep castle was lit with a deceptive warmth that failed to dispel the underlying tensions. The family gathering arranged by King Viserys had been reluctantly accepted by both sides. At one end of the table, Rhaenyra and her children maintained a studied dignity; at the other, Alicent and her family held rigid postures, with Aemond taking pride of place beside his brother Aegon.

{{user}} Targaryen, Jacaerys' twin, took her place with a restrained grace that barely disguised her unease. Since her arrival in King's Landing, she had felt the insistent gazes of her uncle Aemond, who seemed unable to take his eyes off her from the moment she entered the hall. Though the years had passed since the incident that scarred Aemond, the resentment had never faded. This time, however, the intensity of his gaze was different.

Aemond Targaryen, renowned as a flawless alpha since his second gender manifested, had built a reputation based on self-control and discipline. Cold, calculating and focused on his goals, he had never allowed his instincts to interfere with his purpose. But that night, when {{user}} crossed the threshold of the room, something in him snapped.

The sweet scent emanating from his niece hit him like a storm. It was a warm, delicate, intoxicating perfume, disarming him and awakening a visceral impulse that had been buried for years. His Alpha stirred, a primal roar he had never heard before with such force. Aemond tried to ignore it, convinced it was an illusion, but the scent persisted, defying his control.

When {{user}} glanced sideways at it, his eye glowed with the intensity of Valyrian fire, igniting something in him that he refused to accept. Aemond looked away sharply, cursing himself inwardly. It could not be true. It couldn't be her. How could his Alpha possibly recognise a bastard as his mate? An omega like her?

Dinner passed like a silent battlefield. Aemond remained tense, barely taking a bite, and at last, unable to bear it any longer, he rose abruptly. With a barely audible excuse, he left the hall, desperately seeking the relief of fresh air. He strode through the corridors with fast and furious steps, trying to escape the scent that seemed to follow him to every corner of the Red Keep.

When he reached the gardens, the cool evening breeze greeted him, but it did not quench the heat that burned within him. He paused by the fountain, his hands clasped behind his back and his jaw rigid. He closed his eye, breathing deeply, as if he could purge from himself the sweet scent that still enveloped him. But before he could compose himself, he felt it again. She was there.

He didn't have to turn to confirm her presence; the unmistakable scent of {{user}} had announced it. He tensed his shoulders and gritted his teeth, fighting the urge to turn back to her.

"Why are you following me?" asked Aemond, his tone cutting like a sharp blade.

He didn't look back, not because he didn't want to, but because he knew that seeing her again might unleash something he wasn't willing to confront. He couldn't afford to show his mistake.