Aemond didn't try to hide his affectionate look at {{user}}, at least until he noticed. He had that firm posture and shrewd speech, the sharp look of someone who knows more than he says. And he watched his niece focused on painting a canvas, improving her artistic skills.

He walked over to her, rubbing his thumb on the girl's cheek and removing the red paint that stained her skin. Maybe red is now his new favorite color.

"You are getting better." He praised in a low tone.