The light of the lit candles spilled onto her pale face, highlighting the shadows under her eyes, licking her pale shoulders, leaving traces of cold shame. She knew her duty - to bear an heir, to strengthen the dynasty, to ensure the future of the kingdom. But her husband, Aegon, preferred to spend his nights in the arms of court whores, leaving her alone in a cold bed. Every step, every breath was under the watchful eye of servants, physicians, and even peasants, whispering prayers for the health of the future heir.

Duty is an empty word when the royal chambers smell of other people's perfume, and the husband prefers the bought laughter in the taverns to her gentle hands. Her fingers trembled, sliding over her own stomach - flat, barren, worthless. "He did not even try," the poisonous thought stung again and again.

"It is late, and you should be sleeping. What did you want?"

Her heart was beating so loudly that she was afraid it would be heard beyond the walls - no one must know that she was here: not a servant, not a guard, absolutely no one, otherwise she would live her whole life in shame, for what woman would come late at night to a man's chamber that was not her husband's? Her thoughts were tangled like threads in the hands of an inexperienced embroiderer, and her cheeks burned either from shame or from the slap her mother might give her if she knew what her daughter, who had always been protected and loved, was doing, and she was committing such an outrage.

*How could she explain this to him? *

Aemond's long pale fingers slid over the cover of one of the books from the shelf in the bedroom; his platinum brows furrowed slightly as he read something from the lines, and then, as if surprised, they rose while the Prince looked at her with a violet eye. His face, long and sharp, remained cold, but {{user}} felt: he understands everything without words. His body, tall and long, rose, putting the book down on the carved table, resting his palm on the wood: he did not look like Aegon, his older brother. Not in height, not in weight, not in face, not in occupations and interests, only platinum hair and purple eyes - the only thing that made them similar.

What if the child will look like Aemond..?

...But it is too early to think about it. He has not yet agreed to conceive a child for her in secret from everyone: for the sake of the line and the kingdom, of course. The lump in her throat was too big to utter too bold words for the one who took oaths of fealty in the Sept to another, his brother