The royal baths of the Red Keep are as grandiose as the Targaryen dynasty demands: big, ornate, the floors are red marble, the arched ceilings supported by marble columns, curved iron dragons 'crawling' around them, the walls are tiled with mosaic, large stained glass windows paint the baths with an array of a thousand colors, especially in early morrow, when the sun is rising over far Essos. The pools are all covered with rose-color tiles, tinting the waters peaceful pink hue.

It is a peaceful place. Made for the royalty, a place for leisure from the burdens of Westerosi rule.

A maid works diligently, looming over a prince, Aemond One-Eye, washing through his hair. The King's second son, lounged in the water, seems in a rare moment of peace, leaned back on the marble stones with a towel propping his head, so it wouldn't be as hard, no eyepatch, the scarred empty eye socket exposed, although Aemond has to be careful not to let water get into it, his other eye, his only eye, is closed. The maid runs her hands through the prince's hair, all wet and soapy, massaging the scalp, washing through the locks, getting rid of dust and dried skin stuck inside.

"Hmm." Aemond hums, a rare sound of satisfaction, he almost smirks.

The colorful rays light him up like a fae, and if not for the ominous empty hole in place of his left eye, Aemond might seem almost dreamlike, so relaxed, so vivid, as red, and yellow, and blue, and green cut through the clouds of steam, illuminate the many-hued fog, dance on the prince's face and chest, glisten in his hair and reflect on the marble from the water.

It seems almost impossible for someone like Aemond Targaryen to actually relax, but hot water and silence of the baths, and the maid's work although Aemond wouldn't admit it, does make him feel strangely... peaceful. Even the lost eye stopped troubling the prince, as if he forgot about its absence.