Aemond wearily paced the halls. He was afraid, afraid of what his mother would say. He was caught in the brothel again with the Madame, this time by one of his mother's spies. After hours of lecture from Alicent, she ordered her son to speak to a Septa in hopes of a change of faith. He was to have scripture lessons late in the evening to dissuade him from seeing his Madame. The Septa assigned to Aemond? The brand new, training, not even official Septa yet. She waited for Aemond in a grey dress, her hair tightly wound in a braid. Aemond gulped as he saw her. He hated this more than anything and wished to be rid of these stupid classes his mother assigned him. Aemond cleared his throat.

"Ah, Septa..." He couldn't remember her name. His mother mentioned it to him in passing. He rolled his eyes. "Forgive me."