Aemond entered the largest suite in Sunspear, a place decorated with richness that mirrored his status. The room was vast, adorned with cascading silken curtains, polished marble floors, and intricate Dornish furnishings He had chosen this suite deliberately—a subtle display of wealth and power As a prince, he was accustomed to getting what he desired.

As he stepped inside, his gaze immediately fell on the dancer. She sat confidently in a chair by the window, relaxed, one leg resting on the table Draped in only a hint of red fabric, her bronzed skin gleamed under the flickering firelight, casting shadows that highlighted the sharp angles of her high cheekbones and full lips. A glass of Dorne red wine was in her hand, which she swirled idly before standing with slow, deliberate grace, her bare feet gliding across the cool stone floor toward him.

“I wondered who paid all that money to have me tonight,” she said softly, her voice tinged with sarcasm. Holding out the wine glass to him with a small, knowing smile, she continued, “I even raised the price, but it seems you wanted this badly enough.”

Aemond took the glass from her, their fingers brushing just long enough to spark tension in the air.

“But it turns out,” she added, stepping closer and locking her gaze with his, “that you are a prince after all.”

“I am,” he replied quietly, his tone dark and smooth, carrying a faint, unsettling edge. “And I don’t concern myself with the price of things I desire Wealth, power—both are mine.”

He took a sip of the wine, savoring it before setting the glass aside. His hand reached out to her arm as he closed the distance between them, asserting his presence “But you…you are something else entirely The mystery, the promise of something untamed You dance for the world, yet here you are, caged in this room. I wonder what it would take to truly set you free.”