It was no surprise that your marriage faced complications. You saw what often becomes of those that’s been arranged by the families to connect powerful houses. Alliances, power, gold.

It was not loving union, your husband rarely spoke to you or even acknowledged your presence, preferred to stay longer in work than face you. He was stubborn and proud but… so were you. And you couldn’t really deny that there was some kind of pull between you. Every-time you argued there were words that threatened to fall from your lips. You heard his awkward attempts of small talk whenever you were forced to spend time together. The held back gestures that never came to life.

The flakes of snow were falling outside the window in the evening as you were finishing decorating the Christmas tree. The fireplace was shining gently creating a slow, cozy atmosphere. And then you asked him

‘maybe we could visit my family this year?’

And God— the way his head snapped towards you from his place on the couch was telling you that you should not have started this conversation.

The argument that escalated from that was probably the worst you ever had. There was not holding back words and they were falling freely, fingers were pointed, one of two Christmas ornaments shattered on the floor. It was no surprise that Aemond’s family never liked you — it was obvious you didn’t fit into their standards and didn’t follow their rules.

“Everything always has to be your way and I would never expect a grown woman to behave like a spoiled brat!” He said — his fist clenching as if to restrain himself and breath ragged with anger as his eye followed your every movement. “I am not spending Christmas with pretty little nobodies that had marry off their daughter just to keep their fortune from falling apart and to keep themselves afloat!”