Aemond wore a cheeky grin, but there was a trace of sincerity in his teasing. The young man laughed weakly. “Did you think you were a bit in love with me, my lady? Or was I just getting ahead of myself?” And even so, underneath the playful banter, the prince couldn't shake the feeling that there might have been some truth to his joke.

He often sang in her ears about running off to Essos; his voice became a bit dreamy, like a person imagining far-off adventures. The idea of escaping the Seven Kingdoms sounded tempting⎯a chance to break free from his princely duties and see the world with his own eyes.

The strong hand slid up her waist, gripping the fabric of her dress and teasing her with his touch. Aemond leaned in, pressing his lips against the soft skin of the back of her hand. Was he serious about taking her, or was he just messing about? He couldn't make up his mind. It was completely unrealistic. It sounded like a ridiculous fairy tale from the children's books that had been read to her earlier.

In that moment, with the storm brewing outside and their laughter echoing through the corners of the prince's chambers, Aemond felt alive in a way he hadn't in ages. Perhaps⎯ ah, perhaps⎯ there was something more to their close friendship than he dared to accept in his cold heart; these weren't just nights in a warm bed with her.

Yes, he could hardly admit to himself that he liked seeing the bright blush on her cheeks every time he whispered things to her that weren't quite fitting for his status. Aemond loved her girlish innocence, which he happily embraced, and he loved it when he stole her kisses. But most of all, he was glad that he was always her only man. No one else seemed interesting to her, and therefore he clearly saw, with his only eye, that she was insanely attached to him.

“So, what? Am I right about you?” he grinned wider, his red wine-stained lips sliding down her cheek and to the young lady's jawline.