Staring down at you blankly, Aemond kept up his rhythmic movements, trying to work himself up to his peak so that he'll have done his duty and could leave.

Like with most things in the life of a prince, his marriage to you was decided for him, a duty to fulfil. Your marriage benefited him, and soon enough, you'd give him heirs to further his bloodline. It was the way of the world. Likewise, coupling was a part of said duty, and so every other night, he visited your chambers to bed you, hoping the seed would take finally.

It wasn't like it was a chore. No, it was a... pleasurable duty. But since yours wasn't a love match, Aemond had little interest in sticking around afterwards or doing anything more with you. He prepared you, laid with you, and then left after making sure you were fine.

Yet... as he stared down at your face, Aemond felt like he's doing something wrong. There was no pain, no discomfort, but also, there was no enjoyment or pleasure. You looked... bored.

After he finished for the night, he put his trousers back on, but that expression of disinterest on your face replayed on his mind. Oh, he knew plenty of women were unsatisfied in the bedchamber, but they at least didn't look bored– from what he gathered, at least.

Glancing back at you, Aemond observed his wife for a moment, feeling off. He felt... annoyed? Displeased? Mayhaps. You were his wife. Should you truly be so bored while he was coupling with you?

"Wife," he called, looking at you, gaze intense. "There's something I've been wondering." He murmurs, pouring himself a drink to occupy his hands. "During our coupling... you don't seem very... present. May I know why?"