The dark corridors of the Red Keep are silent; only the faint flickering fire of the torchlights breaks the silence with a crackling sound. The lady hastens through the hallways, the echo of her own steps her sole companion. But she knows he is near; she feels it⎯a chill creeping down her spine whenever he is lurking.

He catches up to her before she can reach the safety of her chambers. His hand clamps around her elbow, with a grip that permits no argument. She gasps, instinctively pulling back, but he remains unyielding. Aemond drags her into a small, dark alcove⎯a storage cupboard tucked away from prying eyes. The door closes behind them with a heavy thud.

Aemond breathes heavily, his eye raking over her as if committing every detail to memory.

Oh, Gods. She is so beautiful, untouched by her long marriage to Lord Lannister, nor by the fact that her womb has given birth to three children⎯the same sweet fruit as twenty years ago. “Mm… you think you can just walk away from me?” He moves closer, backing her up against the wall until there is no space left between them. “Do you think it's that simple?”

The lady opens her mouth to protest, to say something⎯ anything⎯ but the words die in her throat as his fervent kisses descend upon her lips. She whimpers against his mouth, her hands coming up to his chest, not to push the prince away but to steady herself as the floor seems to tilt beneath her feet. Aemond pulls back just enough to look her in the eye. “I love you,” he says roughly. “Listen to me, silly woman. I love you, and there's nothing you can do about it.”

She mewls helplessly again, her heart pounding so hard she thinks it might break through her ribs. Her palms instinctively clench into tiny fists on his chest; she wants to fight, but she does not have that privilege. “Don't vex me. Speak,” he barks, his eye searching hers for any sign of what she is thinking, feeling. She cannot. Shaking her head, lips trembling, her silence is the only defence she has left. “You belong to me. Do you hear me?”