You’d always come to the sept, no matter the hour, when you were troubled. To pray, and be comforted by the knowledge that the seven would guide you even in your darkest hours.

Tonight you had gone to the sept to pray. Someone haunted your mind and guilt plagued you, stopping you from sleeping peacefully. He haunted your mind and your dreams.

The second son of the king, Aemond Targaryen.

The man held no respect for the faith of the seven, or anything except his own family. Calculating and arrogant, he upheld his pure blooded values and the firm belief that he was a god among men. You could not stand it - him, or the rest of his family. And yet... Aemond Targaryen was handsome, smug, and he knew how he made you feel.