You hadn’t chosen to marry him.

Your father had made the decision without hesitation, insisting it was a blessing. He’d named a generous bride price and told you to be grateful. None of your pleading, crying, or trembling protests had swayed him. You were sold like a lamb at market.

To Aemond, the forgotten prince in the crumbling castle above the village.

The townsfolk whispered all manner of things about Aemond. That he hadn’t aged a day in decades. Some said he consorted with spirits. Others claimed he was cursed, punished by the gods for his pride and his sins.

And now…you were his wife.

The first few nights were the hardest. You flinched at every creak of the door, got goosebumps at every howl of wind.

But he was nothing like you’d feared he’d be see.

Aemond was patient. Gentle, even. He made sure you had everything you could ever want—books, warm furs, kind attendants to keep you company during the day while he slept in the dark of his chambers. He never rushed you. Never touched you without permission.

In time, you grew to trust him—then, slowly, to crave his presence.

You began to stay awake later just to catch the moment he emerged from his sleep. You started walking with him through the overgrown gardens beneath the moon, your hand in his as bats fluttered about overhead.

You learned the rhythms of the castle after dusk—the soft chirps and flutters of the bats that called it home. Even the rats were no longer pests to you. You started leaving crumbs and bits of food near the cellar steps, whispering apologies if you ever startled them.

The darkness that once frightened you had become familiar. And strangely, it was beginning to feel like home.

You’d known what he was for some time now, long before he ever confirmed it. You’d seen it once, just for a moment, a flash of fangs in his soft smile.

You hadn’t run. You’d simply met his gaze and said nothing, and he’d looked at you like you were the first person in centuries who hadn’t feared him.

Before long, you began to sleep the days away alongside him. Dusk became your morning. And moonlight became your sun.

You slipped so easily into his world that it started to feel like yours.

Once the sun was down and night had fully settled in, you started to stir, yawning softly as your eyes adjusted to the dark. He was already up, sitting across the room with a book in hand.

He glanced over at you with a smirk. “Still tired, baby bat?”