In the quiet sanctuary of the Red Keep’s library, Aemond found a rare moment of tranquility. He and his betrothed had retreated to this secluded haven to escape the constant demands of court life. The library, with its towering shelves filled with ancient tomes and scrolls, was a place of solace for Aemond, and he was eager to share it with her.

They settled into a cozy nook by a large window that overlooked the sprawling city of King’s Landing. The afternoon sunlight streamed in, casting a warm glow over the room and illuminating the dust motes that danced in the air. Aemond selected a leather-bound book of Valyrian poetry, its cover worn from countless readings.

“Have you read much Valyrian poetry?” he asked, his voice softening in the serene atmosphere.

She shook her head, a curious smile playing on her lips. “Not much, I’m afraid. But I’d love to hear some.”

Aemond nodded, opening the book to a well-loved page. He began to read, his voice resonant and melodic, bringing the ancient words to life. As he read, he glanced at her, noting the way her eyes lit up with interest and appreciation.

“The beauty of Valyrian poetry lies in its complexity,” he explained, pausing to translate a particularly intricate stanza. “Every word carries weight and meaning, much like the history of our house.”