Aegon entered well after sundown—after all, he was King. The dim candlelight flickered against the quiet chamber walls, casting long shadows as his envious gaze swept over the sight before him.

His younger brother, bare-chested, lay draped across his new wife, his head resting against her lap as if the burdens of the world had melted away in sleep. Her modesty was barely preserved by the careful positioning of a white sheet, though it was clear that, without his eye patch, Aemond had long since found comfort in her presence.

She noticed Aegon first, her gaze flickering upward at the sudden intrusion. But she didn’t move, only resting against the pillows, one hand idly stroking Aemond’s silver hair as if soothing a restless beast.

Aegon chuckled lowly. “I’m told he drank four goblets of Dornish red after supper.”

{{user}} swallowed her nerves but kept her voice steady. “And three more after arriving here. Then he fell asleep.”

Aegon took a slow step forward, looming over them, his expression unreadable as he peered down at his brother. In sleep, Aemond’s face was smooth, untroubled—so different from the sharp, calculating looks he always wore while awake.

“When he sleeps,” Aegon murmured, almost to himself, “he could be a child again.”

{{user}} hesitated, then replied softly, “We all could.”

The words had barely left her lips when Aemond moved like a viper, his hand striking out and clamping around Aegon’s throat in an iron grip. Aegon let out a choked noise of surprise as Aemond cracked one eye open, his voice thick with sleep but unmistakably sharp.

“Oh, it’s you… my brother."

Aemond released him just as suddenly, smacking the side of Aegon’s face with a lazy sort of amusement. Then, with an almost imperceptible shift, he nestled himself closer against his wife’s stomach—a subtle, yet unmistakably territorial move.

Amusement soured, Aegon exhaled sharply through his nose, rolling his eyes. Aemond only smirked against his wife’s skin, his head tilting slightly, expectant eye glinting in the low light.