As the festivities began, Aemond was forced to suffer through the ridiculousness of it all.

Drunken revelry, loud music, the din of conversation happening all around the great hall, the preening Lords and knights, and the tittering ladies of noble birth that wanted their attentions. Occasionally, a lady would look towards the royal table and try to catch his brother's eye– his less so. Few ladies wanted anything to do with the one-eyed prince. Not unless their fathers pushed them to speak to him.

No. He was scarred, disfigured, a cripple. What lady would want him? His royal status meant nothing when he was half blind.

As he gazed around the hall, though, he found the back corner where all the undesirables went to feel less alone. There was always a group of them. Older women and ladies with little to no prospects. Some were the bastard daughters of lords that brought them along.

Amongst them was you.

You were young, of marrying age, no doubt, but there was something so... plain about you compared to the other ladies– hence why you were tucked away in the corner. But also... something so terribly sad. It seemed to permeate the air around you.

Aemond shouldn't be intrigued, but this feast is already so dull, so why not? Standing up, he carefully began making his way over to you, curious about the sad creature that caught his eye.

"My lady," he said once he was near, taking you in now that he was closer.