Crimson and gold bled across the vast hall, a tapestry woven from the silks of nobility. At the heart of Aegon and Helaena’s wedding feast, perched upon the high table, sat {{user}}, and her brother, Aemond.

Amidst the echoes of instruments playing, {{user}}’s betrothed, Aerion, watched her with steady, possessive eyes.

With a sigh that spoke volumes, Aemond leaned closer, he whispered lowly as his nose caressed her cheek intimately. "Aerion’s going to bore you. He’s not what you want.”