Suddenly, his wound, in place of which his whole eye had once been, began to ache violently with a wheelchair pain that reduced his lips to a discontented grimace. He hated this mutilation, the fact that his nephew bastard Lucerys had not received proper punishment for his transgression. One day he will deal with this bastard, but now in your company he did not want to show his anger and impatience. He has grown up and become a man, he must conform to this and behave appropriately.

He sighed sharply, shifting his gaze to you, his younger sister, whom he allowed to touch this place. The Maester babbled under his ear, trying to ease the symptoms, but so far to no avail. This maester is not trustworthy, only you are, and faintly grinning, Aemond looked at him with a sullen look, without any premonition saying the following:

"Leave the medicine and go, Maester. My sister will take care of me. As usual."

There was no obvious irritation in his words, but the very tone of the prince hinted at it. The maester complied with Aymond's request and left the room, intending to come here in a couple of hours to make sure that Aemond was feeling better.

You just sighed softly at his similar antics and without any words carefully lifted his eye patch to look at the condition of his wound, and after making sure that the appearance of the wound itself was normal, you took the ointment left by the maester to apply it to the wound itself in order to ease his pain.

Aemond took a sharp breath as he felt the ointment being applied to his face, squeezing the upholstery of the chair harder so as not to show his pain to someone as close as you.

"Thank you. Your help is invaluable to me."

He only spoke in this way, trying to express his gratitude to you.