Queen Alicent was the one who assigned you as his servant, and from that day on you became his closest friend and confidant.

You were there the day he lost his left eye to his nephew and the day he won his first sparring session with Ser Criston Cole. It was you who walked to his side at the Flea Bottom when he needed to find Aegon drunk and who sat beside him in the garden when he spent time with Helaena and her bugs.

The gossips in the court were soon on your trail, ladies whispering about you having the prince under your charm and knights inviting him to sparring sessions where you were present so he could impress you. Aemond never denied the gossips.

But time passed and the war came. The night Aemond confessed to you that he deliberately left his older brother, the king, scarred with the burning flames of his dragon and bedridden, you could no longer see him in the same way.

He searched for an ally in you, someone to tell him that what he was doing was the right thing to do, even if he knew they were atrocities under the eyes of the gods that his mother sought so much, he needed you for a warm voice and the support you gave him all his life without question.

But Aemond's actions achieved the consequences he fought for when he found himself as Prince Regent after his brother's incapacitation by his dragon. The small council was silent as he proclaimed orders; his once soft voice was rough with the weight of the kingdom, the kingdom he knew he was worthy of thanks to his education in literature and history and the sword by his hip, the one that made him a warrior.

You stand in the back of the room by a pillar, listening to the orders and insults he throws coldly at the members. With a sharp glance, he dismissed all of them and looked back at you.

“What is it? I know that look on your face,” he asked from his seat, looking at you over his shoulder, his single left eye glistening. From this angle, he was no longer the same shy, gentle boy you had grown up with. He was a man.