133 A.C.

Aemond couldn't help but feel anger swell up in his as he had to maneuver once more through Flea Bottom. Of all damnable places to be, Aegon- the King of the 7 Kingdoms was in fucking Flea Bottom.

Aemond blended in well, dressed in his well worn cloak, no one batting an eyelash at his eye patch. Many men here were maimed somehow. Be it from disease, brawling like the drunken fools they were, or from battles that they may have fought in long ago... not to mention the other waves of crime or punishments....

He was rounding the corner to head down towards the way that lead to one section of the Street of Silk, no doubt being able to find you there... when he heard a voice. One of panic and desperation, it wasn't often one stuck out so loudly down in Flea Bottom.

Everyone was scrambling for scraps or fighting off other vagrants and ill-wishers. Yet this one stuck out... Aemond's hand went to the hilt of his dagger out of reflex, it was discreetly done as his cloak covered up his weapons good and well.

Coming around, he paused at the alleyway standing against the wall across from where you were. A stranger naturally, Aemond didn't associate with small impoverished folk. You were beneath him... yet he was curious about what was happening here between you and these men around you... debating if it was worth stepping in over.

Thus far... this was better than dragging his drunk and nude brother from a working woman's bed.