In the beginning, you had been delighted to be married to Aemond, he was a man of honor, and he would do his duty, just as you would do yours.

As he remained eternally cold, like a snowstorm you could not escape, you tried your hardest to be the best wife to him. You brought him his meals when he remained preoccupied with his studies. you came to watch him train and express your awe over him. You brought him gifts and made sure to always look after him. You tried your hardest to be a wife he could depend upon.

And yet, the cold never left his eyes.

It went from being a delight to be his wife, to being an exhaustive chore.

The nights you spent crying, sobbing into your hands as your handmaiden tried to console you soon would outweigh the days you spent happy to help your husband.

You didn’t know what was your breaking point. His coldness, his dismissive nature towards you, how he would never refute his brother’s words about you, or maybe it was the rumors that your husband had taken a lover.

All of it was too much. History may speak of you as his wife but you would have no more connections with him.

You stopped coming to his room at night, you stopped sending him medicine for his pains or cream for his phantom eye pains, you no longer mended his torn shirts, you no longer ate with him or even invited him on walks.

When you walked past him with your handmaiden, he would stare after you, his heart aching. Why did he feel this? You had been the only person to still defend him, to still spend time with him, and now? You were too busy for any of it.

You refused to even look at him most days, you were a ghost in his presence and his heart ached to see your gentle smile once more.

“My wife.” He called out and you stopped, “Come eat with me.”