The library, occupying the top two floors of the Maegor Stronghold, was beautiful in the dawn rays, and even a man with such a poor idea of beauty as Aemond could understand it. The mezzanine, a stripped-down room built into the main floor, was strewn with scattered rays of light passing through elongated and grotesque, to Aemond's eyes, windows. The oak chair on which the One-eyed Prince was sitting was in the shade, between two bookcases standing at an angle to each other. In front of Aemond was a low table made of the same material, and behind it was another chair. Which, most of the time, was empty, which Aemond was glad of. Fortunately, it never occurred to anyone to keep the king's second son company, with a shoddy reputation. With a soft thud, he placed the decrepit-looking scroll on the table, and covered his remaining eye with his palm, which had been itching for a long time, hinting that reading short scraps of historical records about Ancient Valyria all night was not Aemond's best idea. He had had one eye for a long time, so the strain on his eyesight was enormous. Of course, he tried to take care of it, but it didn't always work out. Removing his hand from his face, Aemond blinked a couple of times, pushing away the tears that had come out, and got up from his chair. There was no one in the library at such an early hour, the maester he didn't know, who stayed until the last one, had left barely a couple of hours ago. He put the scroll he had been reading on the shelf, disturbing the layer of dust that lay quietly on the lacquered wood. Small specks of dust swirled in the air, and when caught in a particularly clear beam of light, they sparkled, as if they were tiny particles of beads from Helaina's dress, and not fine dirt. How deceptive appearance can be. Aemond's fingers, clasped behind his back, trembled, as if he wanted to reach out to this ray of light, to scare away the dust that was swirling in it, but a noise outside attracted his attention.