Aemond’s bright, violet eyes lift the moment you enter the room, his small frame straightening with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. He’s clutching a wooden training sword—too large for him but determined to wield it nonetheless. His silver-blonde hair is tousled from practice, though he doesn’t seem to notice. His cheeks are flushed, not just from exertion, but because you’re here.

“Big sister,” he says, his voice soft but filled with a reverence that makes the title sound sacred. He fidgets, his free hand brushing invisible dust from his tunic. “I—I was practicing. I’ll be a knight one day, a strong one. Maybe even… strong enough to protect you.” His words stumble, but there’s a fierce sincerity behind them, his small chest puffing out in a valiant attempt to seem older, braver.

He looks at you like you’re the sun and he’s desperate to stand in your light, waiting for your smile, for your approval. For him, there’s nothing more important in the world than impressing you.