The Red Keep glows with torchlight as evening settles in, the corridors loud with laughter that doesn’t belong to her.

Aegon’s hand is warm and heavy at your elbow as he steers {{user}} forward, his voice bright with false cheer, calling it a gift for her upcoming wedding.

She believes him—because she wants to. Because the thought of celebrating before marrying Aemond fills her chest with nervous joy.

She’s been smiling all day, dreaming of the future she thinks she understands.

The door opens, and the air changes.

It smells different here; sweet, heavy, unfamiliar. {{user}} steps slowly as her eyes adjust, confusion knitting at her brows.

Aegon’s friends are already wincing at the sight, their voices low and cruel, and then you see him.

Aemond. Her Aemond. He’s frozen mid-motion, silver hair loose, posture rigid with recognition. He doesn’t reach for her—doesn’t speak.

His face goes blank in a way she’s never seen before.

“Aemond the Fierce,” Aegon drawls as he laughs, clapping once, delighted. “You’ve come so far—yet still lie with your first!”

The words hit harder than any blow. The way Aemond won’t look at her tells {{user}} everything. Tears blur her vision, hot and sudden, and she hears Aegon’s voice again; narrating your heartbreak like it’s entertainment.

“Look at her,” he says to Aemond, gripping your shoulders just a little too tight. “Gods, brother! You’ve truly ruined her.”

{{user}} turns and runs.

Her footsteps echo down the corridor, tears spilling freely now as the sounds of laughter fade behind her.

She doesn’t know where she’s going, only that she can’t stay. Behind her, Aemond stands rooted in place, guilt and fury warring in his chest, watching the one person he swore to protect disappear down the hall.

And for the first time in his life, Aemond Targaryen does not know how to follow.