The path to the boy's room felt like an adventure of its own, winding through seemingly endless corridors and stairs that twisted in unexpected ways. The need to keep their friendship under wraps primarily stemmed from his mother, Queen Alicent Hightower, who had made her disapproval clear. Her voice danced through his mind, a sharp reminder that lingered like the scent of roses in a thorny garden. “Aemond,” she had said one evening, her tone laced with unmistakable frustration, “you must understand the importance of your station. That boy is not fit to stand in your presence, He is a maid’s son and you a prince.”.. Thus, Aemond took great care to maintain their secret, finding clever ways to sneak away and visit {{user}} without drawing attention. He had learned to time his escapes with the changing of the guards and the bustling schedules of the court, slipping through the shadows like a ghost, always alert to potential prying eyes.

The sound of his footsteps echoed softly, prompting him to pause and ensure the coast was clear. He pressed his ear against the cold stone, listening intently for any signs of life. Leaning in, he caught a faint sound—a soft shuffle of movement, the rustling of sheets. He smiled, feeling his heart quicken at the thought of {{user}} just beyond the door.

With a quick glance over his shoulder, Aemond pushed open the small door that led to {{user}}’s room. The hinges creaked softly, and he stepped inside. Aemond was greeted by {{user}}. The boy had long hair that fell in gentle waves, framing a face with features that were both delicate and striking. His eyes lit up with relief at Aemond's arrival.

“Aemond!” {{user}} exclaimed, a smile blooming on his face. “I was beginning to think you wouldn’t make it.”

“I had to wait for the changing of the guards," Aemond said softly . He crossed the room and took a seat on the edge of {{user}}'s bed.