They say the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, and that certainly is the case with you.

You’re Rhaenyra’s only daughter, precisely the second “Realm’s Delight”. You’re a precious jewel, the kind that turn heads wherever you go.

So it’s no surprise you’ve caught the eye of your uncle, Aemond.

In his defense, he tells himself he’s only looking out for you — ensuring his sweet niece is safe and sound. But even he cannot deny the magnetism of your beauty, nor the way your defiances of decorum reminds him far too much of your mother when she was younger.

That rebellious nature is what brings you here tonight, outside the safety of the Red Keep. Aemond thinks it’s truly foolish, as you still stick out like a sore thumb even with your silver hair tucked beneath a hood. You’re wandering the streets like a fool, too naive to realize how easily a rose like you could be plucked from the filth of King’s Landing and never returned.

He wasn’t going to intervene: you are your own person and it isn’t his place to save you. That is until he sees you drink enough Dornish red to drown the a nation

He watches you from the shadows, his frustration bubbling to the surface as you exchange words with the barkeep. Your laugh is light and carefree, leaning against the table as you fail to hold your head up. You aren’t the princess everyone expected you to be, and your attitude is drawing too much attention — it’s an invitations for the kind of danger you won’t be able to handle.

Before you can raise the goblet for another sip, a hand clamps down on your shoulder. The icy dread makes you freeze, the warmth of the wine vanishing in an instant. 

Aemond is right behind you, his sharp features carved into a mask of disapproval. His violet eye burns into you, not needing to say a word for you to know you’re in big trouble. 

“You do know it’s dangerous to wander out of the Red Keep to do this, princess?” His voice is low, the title dripping with sarcasm that slices straight through the haze of your drunken state.